The Incident In Hogsmeade
by Acadia elle
Summary: A brief alternate ending of sorts. SSHG Pure fluff. Sequel to The Incident In The Great Hall. Which was written before the release of book six. Hermione Snape nee Granger is OVER 18 years of age.
1. Storms and Showers

Disclaimer :

Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling.

I am making no profit.

Nor am I claiming creation or ownership of anything Harry Potter related.

All of it is J. K. Rowling's, or Bloomsbury Books, or the WB's, or whomever's.

It's not mine.

Pity.

* * *

_Author Notes_

_The focus of my Harry Potter fan fiction a romantic relationship between:_

_The Potions Master, Professor Severus Snape, and Hermione Granger._

_Please note that the age of consent where they live is sixteen (16)._

_However, in my stories the younger (Hermione Granger) of the two, is over the age of eighteen (18) BEFORE any romantic relationship develops._

_Remember, not only is she a birth year older then her classmates; she gained years, and expirience, with her use of a Time-Turner as well.  
-_

_In my stories, (I am only speaking about my fan fiction and it's characters) the Potions Master, Professor Severus Snape and Hermione Granger are completely equal in their relationship, on all levels; emotional, intellectual, etceteras. Severus' emotional development is a bit delayed, no doubt because of his past. Whereas, Hermione is very advanced for her age. You will find that in my stories, she is no longer a student of his, prior to the development of their relationship. When she was his student, Professor Snape hardly noticed anything about her, other then her incessent hand raising. He was never a mentor to her, they were not friends, or close in any way when she was young. They never knew anything about each other, except for the fact that the other existed and was an annoyance._

_There is no harm being done to either party in their relationship, on any level including; psychological, emotional, and physical._

_(Nor is their relationship harming anyone else.)_

_Far fetched?  
Perhaps.  
However, that is why they call it fan fiction._

_With that said, if you are still interested, please read on!_

* * *

**The Incident In Hogsmeade**

_This story was written before the release of : The Half-Blood Prince._

At first glance, Snape-on-Westray seemed to be a massive dark shadow rising out of the sea-carved cliffs, an isolated stone edifice that could have been part of the very rocks beneath it. At first glance it gave the impression of being a bastion of all that is aristocracy. However, upon closer inspection, one could see a distinct lack of overindulgence combined with subtle Muggle influences. This unexpected combination was not quite so unexpected given the identities of the current occupants: the distinguished and austere wizard, Severus Snape, and his young bride, the outspoken Muggle-born Hermione Snape, née Granger.

The wizard himself was ensconced in the extensive main library of his home, immersed in a book: Bartholomæus Anglicus De Proprietatibus Rerum. He was conducting some unconventional research. He was stretching the bounds of probability, in hopes of finding any inspiration to break the impasse in his attempts to create an improved version of the Wolfsbane Potion. His studies were interrupted by the sound of something shattering. He looked up from the text he had been perusing. He inwardly cringed at the sounds that next assaulted his ears. Madam Snape was letting loose with a string of curses that would make a Muggle sailor blush.

He had heard something break. He knew he should make sure that she was uninjured; yet, he procrastinated. Severus Snape admonished himself. 'I am one of the most powerful wizards alive. I am a former Death Eater turned spy for the Light. I am a man who for many years witnessed unspeakable horrors and experienced repeated tortures at the hands of the Dark Lord, all the while knowing I could be killed at any moment.' He grudgingly admitted to himself, 'I am a man who... is hesitating to approach my wife. My sweet, compassionate and loving wife. A witch who is as lovely in spirit as she is of face. A woman who happens to be over eight months gone with our first child.' He steeled himself. He knew he needed to go to her; he feared that she was cut. 'Pregnancy,' he thought, 'is a very delicate condition, fraught with dangers... though not for the mother-to-be.' His inner voice now sounded quite bitter. 'No, she was as healthy as a hippogriff. The danger was to those who came in contact with the cauldron-full of violently swinging hormones called Hermione Snape.'

Suddenly, his mind went down another path and he recalled in vivid detail what he had seen in Harry Potter's memories a few months earlier. He remembered seeing his wife and unborn child die horrifically, he himself saturated in Hermione's lifeblood, clutching her lifeless body, unable to save her. 'Had Harry Potter not used the Time-Turner and warned us, so the events could be avoided, she would be dead.' Suddenly, he was glad to be the subject of any outlet Hermione needed for the hormones that were ruling her mind and body. He rose with cat-like grace from his chair and went to find his wife.

Hermione stood in the loft office looking down on the jagged shards of a delicate teacup. When Severus entered the room, she was raging. "My mother's ... irreplaceable ... even if another could be found it wouldn't be HERS ... how clumsy can I be? I should be locked up for the safety of the general public! She's dead, and now her teacup is dead, too..." Hermione trailed off with a sob when she felt Severus's arm snake around her from behind.

He drew her body back to him, leaned over her shoulder and incanted, "Reparo!"

The tea cup now sat innocently on the polished hardwood floor, as whole as it had been minutes before.

"Did you cut yourself?" Severus whispered in Hermione's ear.

"No," she replied sulkily. Her tone switched abruptly to one of angry frustration. "How could I have forgotten such a basic spell?"

"You would have thought of it," he said softly.

"I don't know, I seem to have lost my capacity for-"

She was interrupted by the appearance of Meppy, a house-elf. Meppy was dressed in the uniform Hermione had designed to be worn by all of their house-elves: an impeccable black and white robe with an embroidered shield on the left breast. The shield on Meppy's uniform was comprised of an 'S' at the bottom with ocean waves running along the top, symbolising that she worked at the Westray Snape estate. The uniform was completed by a felt pileus. Hermione insisted that all the elves, at all their holdings, wear clothes, especially the pileus: a felt cap that was once worn by slaves when they were set free. Meppy wore her new Snape uniform proudly. Now. When Hermione had first come to Snape-on-Westray, the house-elves had been terrified of her ideas. Inviting Dobby to talk to them had only made matters worse. When they eventually understood that they would be 'free', however, they in no way would be forced to live differently, they agreed to Hermione's unorthodox ways. They accepted their clothes; they collected their pay - although they spent none - and they worked on their days off.

Meppy picked up the teacup and cast a cleaning spell on it, saying, "Meppy make Ma'am some tea. Meppy make Ma'am some nice peppermint tea. Make Ma'am feel better."

"Madam will be in the sitting room," Severus informed the house-elf. Severus took Hermione's hand and led her down the stationary spiral stairs and across to the richly appointed sitting room. It was irresistibly inviting with its dark woods and deep-coloured fabrics. They sat on a comfortable forest green leather couch in front of a roaring fire. The room was agreeably warm, despite the stormy sea that could be seen through the vast windows.

Severus turned sideways on the couch. He wrapped his long arms around Hermione and drew her to him. She managed to insinuate herself between his thighs, as she snuggled back into him.

"You must have been busy, Severus," she said.

"Not really, no," he whispered into her ear. He kissed the side of her neck, in the hollow beneath her ear, causing her to shiver in delight. He inhaled against her skin and asked, "How is your counter proposal coming along?"

"I've worked up the potential expenses, and I've managed to inflate them enough so the Ministry can bargain us down. Even after that, we should still have more than enough for the first six months of work."

"You expect the Ministry to actually fund this endeavour in its entirety?" he inquired.

"It was their suggestion that we undertake this line of experimentation," Hermione said. "Why should we fund it ourselves? They can cut out some red tape-"

"Red tape?"

"They can lighten their bureaucratic entanglements if they want this potion." Forcefully, she added, "Make no mistake, Severus, they want us to develop this potion. Imagine all Ministry personnel, from Aurors to welcome witches, immune to the Imperius Curse. What wouldn't they give for that? They know that we are the ones who are capable of giving it to them."

"You are very sure," he said.

"I am."

"You know that the Ministry will take any advantage it can," he said seriously.

"Of course, I do. I've taken that into account and written the counter proposal accordingly. If they want this potion, they'll fund our research fully, and we'll profit, as well."

"If anyone can make the Ministry agree, you can," Severus noted.

"I'll do that, and more. In the end we'll retain sole ownership of the formula, along with the exclusive rights to brew the potion for profit."

"Then you will be able to donate all our profits for educational and charitable purposes," Severus said.

"That's the plan," Hermione agreed.

"Yes, speaking of plans," Severus asked warily, "what are your plans for this afternoon?"

"You remember, Harry is coming," she answered, as she tilted her head back and to the side.

"Um," Severus replied into her newly offered skin. Tea suddenly appeared on the table in front of them. "You need to eat something," Severus murmured.

"We can eat together, then," Hermione responded. She grunted and made to sit up.

"Remain where you are," Severus commanded smoothly. He motioned at the teapot and it poured the sweetened peppermint tea into a cup. He then safely hovered it to Hermione.

"Meppy?" Hermione called. Instantly, a carafe of hot coffee joined the tea on the table.

Severus directed a cup of the dark rich brew to himself. The pair relaxed with their drinks and watched the fire and the sea together.

"A lovely day," Hermione commented.

"You have learned to appreciate an ocean storm as much as I," Severus said smugly.

"Although, I still like a bright day." Hermione laughed.

"Have I said that I only appreciate storms?"

"No, but they are your favourite. They're mine as well," she admitted. "There's a raw power that's somehow more than we are."

"Indeed," Severus agreed.

"What were you doing?" she asked.

"Nothing of any use," he replied sharply.

"Still frustrated with the progress on Remus's potion?"

"What progress?" he asked snidely.

"That bad?"

"We will make a breakthrough; it is merely a matter of time," he responded. Irritation entered his tone as he asked, "What time are you expecting Potter?"

"Harry should be here just after lunch," she said, scowling at Severus's annoyed tone.

"Then I shall return to my research directly after lunch," Severus said.

"Convenient," she quipped.

"Lunch, however, is not for two hours," Severus commented almost casually.

"Is there something you would like to do in the meantime?" she asked with a mischievous smile.

"Perhaps..."

"Let's go to the observatory," she suggested. "Push me up."

They set their empty cups down and Severus gently pushed Hermione to her feet.

* * *

Soon, Severus and Hermione lay together in the observatory, a room that was actually the top room of the tower, one of the six areas that comprised their master suite. When Hermione had this tower room made over into an observatory, she had the walls and ceilings all constructed of glass that was charmed to be impenetrable. When they moved in, Severus had the entire floor of the observatory charmed, as well. It was no longer a floor to be walked on. It was a perfect place for Severus's pregnant wife to rest, recline, or make love with him.

Severus was lazily tracing patterns along the top of Hermione's soft bare arm with his free hand, while his other held her back against him. Severus was watching Hermione, and she was staring out to sea, lost in her thoughts.

Her face wore a relaxed, satisfied smile as she turned, disturbing the multi-textured pillows on which they reclined, to face Severus. "You're spoiling me, you know," she said with a contented sigh.

He arched a challenging eyebrow at her.

"Oh, I know you have ulterior motives," she said with a laugh, "you have no intention of being anywhere near me this afternoon."

"It is not your presence that I seek to spare myself," he said coldly. "I merely wish to avoid your illustrious guest."

"I know that," she replied. "Though I had hoped that you and Harry had become, well, not friends exactly- "

"Don't be absurd," he cut across her, "I ... tolerate Potter's presence somewhat more now than in the past, merely because he proved himself not to be utterly useless. However, I will never enjoy his presence."

"Pity."

Severus rolled her onto her back and loomed over her. "Dare you mock me, witch?" he asked in his most dangerous tone.

"I do dare," she retorted defiantly.

"Then I give you fair warning, you shall suffer the consequences," he hissed.

He looked so very serious; she couldn't stand it. "I'll take that risk," she gasped between laughs.

"And you compound your impertinence with laughter?" he asked in disbelieving outrage.

His question was met with increased peals of laughter.

"So be it," he declared ferociously.

Hermione sobered as his fervid black gaze caught hers.

They said nothing more as their gazes locked and intensified. There was no need for Legilimency between them; it was absolutely intimate, looking into each other's very beings like that. Before long, she drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

Hermione was admiring the view as she ate her lunch. They were sitting at the breakfast island; Severus was seated across from her, his dark form framed by the sea and the storm that could be seen through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him. She was trying to listen to what he was saying about the potion, but in the last couple of weeks she had found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. Her Muggle-born Healer, a witch who also trained as a Muggle midwife under her mother; had assured her that the problem would pass once the baby was born. She said it was natural to be easily distractible at this time. Even though intellectually she knew it was temporary, Hermione found it horribly aggravating. She really wanted to hear how Severus was doing with his research, but she couldn't get her mind off how enticing he looked, sitting there all imposing, and intelligent, and ...

"Hermione." Severus smiled.

Dark and smiling ...

"Hermione," he called in quiet amusement.

And calling her name ... "What?" She snapped out of her musings.

"What were you thinking that caused you to not pay attention?" he asked sternly. He stood, filling her vision with his darkness as he crossed his arms over his chest. Wearing his customary black frock-coated suit and robes for Harry Potter's impending visit, he looked very much the disapproving Professor.

"Well, I- "

He moved around behind her. He leaned down and in his deep resonant voice, he spoke menacingly in her ear. "You what, Madam Snape?"

His voice reverberated down her body, thrilling her and igniting something within her. A wicked glint entered her eyes. She put on a contrite expression, looked down and whispered, "I ... I ... probably deserve a detention, Professor Snape, sir."

Before a mildly shocked Severus could respond, a chime sounded.

"Ah, your guest has arrived," Severus noted, a sour expression settling on his features.

Severus held out his hand and helped Hermione up. They walked to the foyer doors where Quimple, an elderly house-elf, stood, waiting to announce their guest. As the couple approached, he spoke. "Professor McGonagall is on the Floo, Sir, Ma'am."

"Thank you, Quimple, that will be all," Severus answered.

The flawlessly groomed and uniformed house-elf bowed and disappeared with a crack.

Severus unwarded the foyer doors. He and Hermione stepped through to find Minerva's head in the fireplace.

"Severus, Hermione, could you come though for a while? We've a bit of a crisis and could use your help, Severus," Minerva said crisply.

"What is it, Minerva?" Severus asked.

"Your replacement's cauldron exploded. He has no control over his classroom. I swear," she enunciated his title disparagingly, "Professor Ostergard is intimidated by his students. Someone must have slipped an extra ingredient or two into his cauldron. No one was hurt, but Professor Ostergard got doused with the potion. Obviously, having been tampered with, the potion was not what it should have been. He's sprouted superfluous arms, four superfluous arms, to be exact. What's worse is he now has a spiked tail, and he's hiccupping tiny flames. The daft man was babbling something about Antipodean Opaleye and powdered Romanian Longhorn horn, but he's virtually incoherent. He can't make himself an antidote because he's hysterical. Albus has taken his classes for the rest of today, but we really need him back in his classroom tomorrow. Could you come through and help him out, Severus?"

"The school runs so very well without my expertise," he said dryly.

Minerva gave him a disapproving look for his sarcasm.

"Of course I will oblige, Minerva, I've nothing better to do," he snarled.

Severus was cut off by a knocking at the outer door. Hermione made to open it, but Severus's hand shot out and caught her by the arm before she could.

"Oh, yes," Hermione muttered at the hand on her upper arm. She took out her wand and pointed it at the front door, incanting, "Ostendo!" A storm-bedraggled Harry Potter, shouldering a weather-beaten broom, was revealed. "Now may I open the door?" Hermione asked.

"If you must," Severus said scathingly, as he released his hold on her.

"And Severus," Minerva's head spoke, "I've no more classes today. I'd like Hermione to come for tea while you fix the problem."

"She shouldn't travel in her condition," Severus said absently as he watched his wife greet Harry Potter with a warm hug.

"Travel?" Hermione asked, turning her attention to Severus and Minerva.

"Hello," Harry said to Severus.

"Harry," he responded evenly.

"Of course, you can travel. You can use my..." Minerva trailed off and rummaged behind her. She turned around and held up a bulky cloak. "... Cushioning Cloak, just to be safe."

"Cushioning Cloak?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, Filius charmed it for me after my injury. With it on, you don't feel the spinning of the Floo, nor are you touched when your body bumps things. You can even land as hard as possible and the impact has absolutely no effect." Minerva smiled. "It's easy enough to wear. You cast a Bubble-Head Charm on yourself, and then secure yourself inside the cloak. Once you're secured in, you become completely encased. Because you are totally secured inside the cloak, you need help to activate the Floo. Someone guides you into the Floo, shouts your destination, and when you arrive you just take the Cushioning Cloak off and cancel your Bubble-Head Charm. There's nothing to it. It makes Floo travel perfectly safe for anyone, no matter how vulnerable a condition they are in."

"I'd love to try it and to see you, but Harry just got here." Hermione indicated her visitor who was dripping copious amounts of water and mud on the pristine foyer floor.

"No problem, how long can it take you to have tea with Minerva? I'll just clean up," Harry indicated the soaked condition of his person, "and warm up, and by then you should be back."

Severus bristled.

"Don't worry, Severus," Harry said convivially, "I'm sure Darvis won't let me get into any trouble."

At the sound of his name, Darvis, an elf who could have been Dobby's twin in his adoration of Harry, popped into the foyer.

"Oh, how can I be helping the great and good Harry Potter?" he asked, bowing deeply.

"For the love of Merlin, Darvis, stop that!" Severus snapped.

"Yes, Master- "

"And that!" Hermione said in exasperation.

"Yes, Ma'am, and Mas - sorry, so sorry! Sir," Darvis stammered. "Darvis needs disciplining. Darvis- "

"Darvis," Hermione began gently, only to be interrupted by Minerva.

"Why don't I send Dobby over to visit with you while you wait for Severus and Hermione to get back, Harry?" Minerva asked.

"That'd be great," Harry replied.

"If you are all through deciding on my afternoon itinerary?" Severus drawled.

"Not yet, Severus," Minerva scolded.

Severus was sorely tempted to cross his arms, stick out his lower lip, and pout like a fractious child. 'A wizard in control of his own life and destiny, indeed,' he thought.

"Darvis," Hermione interjected, "could you take care of Harry, please? Show him to the Asphodel Suite and help him clean up. Then have Reny make him something nice and warm to eat and drink."

There was a loud pop as Dobby appeared in the foyer.

"Dobby," Hermione greeted.

"Harry Potter's friend! I is happy to be seeing you!"

"I'm glad to see you too, Dobby." Hermione smiled.

"Professor Snape, sir. It is gracious you are to have Dobby in your home."

'Manipulative elf,' Severus thought. In his cold voice he simply said, "I am no longer a Professor."

"Oh, I is sorry, Master Snape, sir," Dobby said.

"Madam is not wanting us calling him our Master," Darvis whispered audibly to Dobby.

"No, no. I is not calling him my Master; I is calling him Master because he is a Master of Potions. Your Madam Hermione not object to that, surely," Dobby said wisely.

"Of course not," Hermione agreed. "That's settled, but Harry is still wet. Yuck, and muddy," Hermione said pointedly.

"Oh, and he must be cold!" Darvis exclaimed. Darvis and Dobby ushered Harry through a door.

* * *

"Ostergard's level of incompetence is unmatched even by Lockhart, and his skill with the fine art of Potions is surpassed by Longbottom. What were you thinking?" Severus asked as he paced Minerva's office.

"We were thinking that our Potions Professor resigned and that we had to replace him before his classroom filled with students in September." Minerva smiled.

"Another in a long line of irresponsible hirings, I- "

"I see nothing has changed since you've been off faculty," Minerva interrupted.

"Do you realise how dangerous- "

"Your subject is?" Minerva recited, resisting the urge to cast her eyes heavenward. "Yes, Severus, I do. You have mentioned it before. I am well aware that in all your years teaching, you never had a fatality." Minerva continued. "What would you have us do? Remove Potions from the curriculum until someone with your expertise and ability can be found? Even if we could get another Master to teach, which is not even remotely likely, we would never find one who can command a classroom as you did. The students practically stopped breathing when you entered the room."

"As the dunderheads should," Severus responded. "I suppose the staff find Ostergard as amusing," Severus drawled, "as they did Lockhart."

"Not that amusing, no," Minerva answered. "Ostergard doesn't wear hair curlers. Seriously, Severus, what is your honest opinion?"

"That Ostergard is a danger to the inhabitants of this castle," he replied.

"Can I assume that this is based on more than his dragon-like appearance at the moment?"

"Most assuredly," Severus said vehemently. "Do you know what I found in that classroom, Minerva?"

"Not really, no," she replied.

"Evidence of at least nine cauldron explosions. That is fresh evidence. Those nine explosions all occurred in the last twenty-four hours," he spat furiously. "You will have a dead student this year; it is amazing that there has as yet been no fatality."

"I knew he was having problems, but I had no idea it was on such a serious scale," Minerva said, her tone suddenly grim. "We could have him limit his curriculum to simple potions that are unlikely to explode," Minerva added thoughtfully.

"In an undisciplined classroom, the students will find a way to explode pumpkin juice," Severus commented disdainfully.

"Limit his teaching to theory with no actual brewing?" Minerva asked.

"That might make him somewhat safer. However, no student will pass a Potions N.E.W.T. without actual brewing experience," Severus noted.

"I don't suppose- " Minerva began.

"Much as I empathise with your plight, no," Severus answered her unfinished question.

"Severus, consider- "

"No."

"After the baby is born, until the end of the year? You wouldn't have to live in the castle, and you could hire your replacement for next year," Minerva wheedled.

"No."

"Please, Severus, for Albus," Minerva begged. "How would it look for him to have to call parents in and explain to them that their child died in class?"

"No."

"What if were you and Hermione he called in? Imagine if it were your child," Minerva said quietly.

"That was reprehensible," Severus growled.

"I'm proud of it," Minerva beamed.

"Wipe the silly grin off your face; my answer remains an absolute no."

Minerva's grin faded.

"Albus would have been more subtle in his delivery," Severus lectured disdainfully. "He would never have come out and said that."

"I suppose not," Minerva said in thoughtful agreement. "Well, I think I'll wake Hermione and see if she can help me come up with a solution, then," Minerva added slyly.

Severus and Minerva looked at the peacefully sleeping witch curled up in the corner of Minerva's office settee. Severus hadn't paid her much mind since he entered the office. Now that he did, he realised that her sleep was feigned. He shook his head in exasperation and reiterated, "No, Minerva, I can not go back to teaching."

"I'm sure Hermione will be able to come up with somethin- "

He held up a hand to stop Minerva from shaking Hermione. "No," Severus snarled, "there is no need to 'wake' my wife. I might be persuaded to give Ostergard a set lecture curriculum for all his classes for the remainder of the term. I might write up specific methods of teaching for him. If I do, and he follows them to the letter, he should be able to take his classes in hand before reintroducing brewing next term. However, if he proves beyond help, as I suspect he will, perhaps I shall consider sitting in on your interviews for his replacement."

"That's more than I hoped for, Severus, thank you," Minerva said warmly.

"Save your thanks," Severus replied. "Instead, you can tell me exactly why you, Minerva McGonagall, Transfiguration Professor, Head of Gryffindor House, Deputy Headmistress of this school ... tampered with Ostergard's cauldron today."

Minerva drew back in shock. "That's preposterous. I have no idea who- "

Severus cut across her and continued. "The pretense was not needed to show me his incompetence. That, he has made crystal clear without your furtherance. You are no fool, Minerva, so I suspect there is something more to it. Why did you do it?" Severus gave Minerva a threatening glare. "Do not bother to continue with your denials, I know that you are the responsible party."

"How did you -," Minerva blurted.

"I have my ways," Severus said smugly. "If you wish my assistance with Ostergard, enlighten me."

"I - it... Severus- "

"You do need my help with the Ostergard situation."

"You know that we do."

Severus folded his arms across his chest and simply waited.

"Fine. Harry came to me-"

"I might have known," Severus interrupted with a sneer. "Potter."

"Yes," Minerva said, "Harry wanted my help with something he was working on."

"What, pray tell, has precious Potter planned this time?" Severus asked scathingly.

"It wasn't Harry's plan originally," Minerva defended, "he was contacted by a relative of yours, actually, Severus. Summer, from the States."

Severus glared at Minerva. "If those two have been collaborating, and you are co-operating-"

"You look pale, Severus," Minerva teased.

"Indeed," Severus said snidely, "what exactly is going on?"

"Nothing too painful," Minerva said with a laugh.

"Minerva," Severus warned in his most dangerous tone.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Severus," Minerva chided, "it's only a party."

"A party?" Severus hissed, a look of abject horror appearing in his eyes.

"Summer has a baby shower planned," Minerva said.

"A baby shower?" Severus echoed.

"Yes, Severus," Minerva explained patiently, "a party where all your, and especially all Hermione's, friends get together to celebrate the impending birth."

"Why?" Severus asked.

"Because an anticipated birth is a wonderful thing. Don't you think Hermione will appreciate seeing all her friends joyously gathered, celebrating this wonderful time with you?"

Severus opened his mouth to issue a mordacious remark; just in time he remembered that his crafty wife was merely pretending to be asleep. Smoothly, he replied, "If she would enjoy it, I would not see her deprived of the event."

Minerva looked skeptically from Severus to the sleeping Hermione and responded with a "Hmm."

"When is the," Severus took a breath, and forced himself to speak with an even tone, "party?"

"Why, they're setting it up now, Severus," Minerva said with an evil smile. "Why else would I have contrived to get both you and Hermione out of the house?"

"Out of the house?" he asked.

"Yes, and I sent Dobby to help Harry and Summer," Minerva replied.

"Nicoleta is in my house with Potter and that deranged elf? Now?"

"Hermione has told me you refuse to call her Summer," Minerva said questioningly.

"Nicoleta is a dignified name, while the moniker she has chosen for herself, 'Summer', is a- "

Hermione yawned and stretched. Severus and Minerva looked at her. Severus rolled his eyes, and Minerva smiled.

"I'm so sorry, Minerva, I must have fallen asleep when you had to go to the Gryffindor common room and restore discipline." Hermione explained for Severus's benefit, as she gave Minerva an apologetic smile. "Severus, how long have you been here?"

He didn't answer; he just regarded her with a sardonically raised eyebrow. She knew she hadn't fooled him. She never could.

* * *

Severus observed Hermione as she leaned against the door. The last of the guests had just left by Floo. She was ruffled and glowing. He glided to her and pulled her into his arms. "Did you enjoy yourself, My Love," he asked, his deep baritone amused and indulgent.

"Very much!" she enthused. "It was so good to see everyone."

"Mmm," he said into her hair.

"You don't seem too miserable," she commented.

"I am sure that I must have endured worse, sometime," he quipped.

"Yes," she agreed, "although it must have been torturous for you men, indulging in all that good cognac from Summer and those expensive cigars Harry brought."

"I survived it," he said seriously.

She laughed. "What were you all doing cloistered in the library the entire time?" She shook her head. "I hope my books don't smell of cigars. You don't even smoke."

"It would have been rude to forbid them their cigars, merely because I am not so inclined," he said silkily.

"And we all know Severus Snape is never rude," she said sarcastically.

"Potter said he is returning tomorrow?" Severus asked, hoping that Hermione would say he was mistaken.

"Yes, he is. We never got to talk. You had him in the library all night," she teased.

"I most certainly would have relinquished him to you," Severus returned.

"I'm sure you would- "

"And the others, for that matter," Severus continued thoughtfully. "They could have left the cognac and joined you witches in the sitting room."

"As if," Hermione scoffed, "Summer tried to get you men to join in."

"Yes, well," Severus hedged.

"It's okay, Severus," Hermione said gently. "She would have insisted that you join us had I not put my foot down."

"You made her leave us alone?" he asked in genuine wonder. "That is quite a feat; Summer is not easy to persuade."

"I managed it. There was no need for you to suffer when you were perfectly happy in the library, doing who knows what..." Then just to prove that she did know what they had been doing, she continued, "Who was the big winner, anyway?"

"Ah. Arthur won the most. No one realised he was so well versed in card games," Severus replied.

"How did Neville and Remus do?" Hermione asked.

"Remus beat Neville at chess," Severus offered.

"I'm not surprised there were too many of you to all play cards, why the Weasley clan alone..." she trailed off sadly.

"Hermione-" Severus began gently, only to be cut off.

"It's okay, Severus, really." She smiled.

"He may yet come around. Perhaps when he has gained some maturity, he will bury his grudge."

"We'll have grandchildren by the time Ronald Weasley is mature," she teased. It was an effort to show him that she was fine with it. It backfired.

"Grandchildren?" he said, in a terror-stricken voice.

"Come see the presents," Hermione said as she pulled Severus into the sitting room. "After you refused Summer's polite invitation to join us, you need to know what we were given, so you can send our thanks to everyone."

"I knew you would find a way to make me pay for your gracious acceptance of our withdrawal," Severus said snidely, although he allowed her to lead him to the sofa. She handed him a quill, ink and parchment.

"Here," she said bossily, "you can make notes, because you'll be thanking each and every person. You'll thank them in your own words, in your own hand." She placed her hands on her hips and regarded him. "But first," she pointed at something laying in a tissue nest and said, "would you care to explain this?"

"Ah, well," he managed to look somewhat apologetic, "Nicoleta has always been generous. When she married, she was insistent on sharing her husband's wealth. Then when she made her own fortune..."

"As you did yours?"

"Quite."

"Still, Severus, this is too much. Hermione scolded.

"It does not seem like anything special." he said firmly. "However, Nicoleta is always, 'too much'."

Hermione ignored his statement as she held up a magical mobile. It had a central moon and was surrounded by stars. Each large piece was made from a genuine faceted gemstone. It was incredible to watch the spinning shapes as the light danced through and off the various colours. "Summer tells me that the large Amethyst moon is to dispel fears and prevent nightmares. She said the stones the stars are made from all have different meanings, as well." Hermione recited: "The Topaz is to enhance communication; the Citrine is a relaxant; the Emerald enhances memory; the Garnet is for strength; the Peridot brings a happy, friendly energy; the Ruby is for protection; the Sapphire is for growth; the Tanzanite encourages spirituality; and the Tourmaline is for understanding."

"I told you she is completely barmy," Severus said by way of explanation.

"If you persist in saying this is nothing special, I'll decide it's you who is barmy," Hermione teased.

"I would hazard a guess that Nicoleta was impressed with what you have done with the house," he said quietly. He wanted to distract her from her distress over the excessive gift. The way Nicoleta took her wealth for granted tended to make Hermione uncomfortable, and he would circumvent that if he could.

"She was. She particularly loved that the whole side facing the sea is basically solid windows."

"All your changes are impressive," Severus purred, "even those you made with the house-elves."

"Flattery will not get you out of seeing the gifts and writing the notes."

"You can not hold me accountable for trying."

She held out an ivory coloured shawl. He had never seen anything that looked so ... soft. He reached out to touch it.

"This," she said, "is from Minerva. It has unicorn hair knit into it. When the baby is wrapped in it, it will be almost impossible for the baby to catch any illnesses. It closes with this." She held out a pin. Severus took it from her and held it up. It was two interwoven hearts that were topped with a crown.

"A luckenbooth?" Severus said in confusion.

"Minerva wanted to pass it on," Hermione explained. "She never expects to have a baby of her own."

"I see," Severus said, as he handed the pin back to Hermione.

"These," Hermione said brightly, as she picked up a plushie snake and lion, "are from Remus and Ginny."

"They are giving gifts together, now?" Severus asked snidely.

Hermione ignored him and moved on. She stretched to the side and held up a small broom.

"Potter."

"Of course," she said with a laugh. "Let's see, the wand shaped rattle is from Tonks. Neville brought the aequus," Hermione continued, as she gestured to a large flowering magical plant.

"An unusual specimen," Severus said absently as he stared at two bright knit socks. "The mismatched socks would be?" Severus asked disdainfully.

"From Dobby," Hermione giggled. "One red Gryffindor sock with tiny gold lions, and one green Slytherin sock with tiny silver snakes."

After he had endured the display of several more mind-numbing frivolities, he heard Hermione finally say, "And last but not least, this one is from Albus. He sent a gift, even though he couldn't come."

"Is Albus mad?" he asked drolly.

"Maybe," she said, as she examined the perpetually refilling sweet bowl Albus sent. "But I think we can set it to dispense sweets as infrequently as we want," she added thoughtfully, as she stifled her fifth huge yawn.

Severus stood with fluid grace and extended a hand. "Come."

"I am a bit tired," she allowed.

* * *

Later that night, Hermione awoke in her lover's arms, infused with a deep sense of tranquility that was in direct contrast to the storm that still raged around their sanctuary.

"Severus," she whispered. She would have gone on, but at that moment he drew her to him and captured her earlobe between his teeth. He bit softly and proceeded to suckle. As Hermione made soft sounds of desire, he proceeded to kiss behind and under her ear, making his way down to the nape of her neck where he passionately attacked her skin with unrestrained fervor.

She turned her head and pulled his lips to hers, returning his passion with equal force. As his talented fingers began to dance over her body, her head fell back, and her lips parted in ecstasy.

Their bodies became one to the sound of the storm-driven waves crashing on the rocks outside their immense bedroom windows.

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

_With many thanks to the brilliant Nakhash Mekashefah for her beta-reading of this chapter!  
_

* * *

Loose Latin translations:

Ostendo: show, reveal, present, make plain, declare.

Aequus: to calm


	2. Resupinations and Reflections

* * *

Severus Snape stormed into Albus Dumbledore's office. Luckily, the wise old wizard was alone. Severus spoke urgently and in tones most unlike himself. "Albus, I need a Time-Turner." 

Albus tried to speak, but the powerful younger wizard cut him off.

"I know you have one. You know that I would not ask unless it were of the utmost importance." His voice was still his deep baritone, but it had an edgy quality Albus had never heard from Severus. It was almost as if he were panicked.

"Severus, I must ask why. Is Hermione hurt? Is she ill? What has gotten you into this state? What is wrong, my boy?" Albus spoke with deep concern.

"No, Albus, Hermione is not hurt or ill. I... she..." The agitated man trailed off as he ran his hand through his lank black hair and turned away from his mentor.

"Severus, what is it, then?" Albus asked gently.

The black-clad wizard began to pace back and forth in the short distance before the Headmaster's desk. His steps were quick and full of repressed emotional energy. His hands were fisted at his sides, his face contorted in the deepest of scowls.

The Headmaster waited, allowing him time. He watched him pace, his concern mounting with each snapping turn the agitated wizard made. Finally, Severus swung around mid-stride and clutched the edge of the desk.

"I cannot do this to her," he admitted through clenched teeth. His eyes held a sudden uncharacteristic openness. He dropped all pretense and looked at the aged wizard who was both his mentor and his friend. His expression was almost pleading. When he spoke, his voice was broken. "Everything, Albus; everything I have ever attempted has been a miserable failure. From the time I was a small child, through the present day. My whole life has been nothing but one long series of bad decisions. One abysmal failure after another. Everything I touch is ruined. Everything I attempt is lacking, regardless of how much I put into the effort. I can invest my entire self in something, anything, and still I always fail. I cannot do this to Hermione. How could I have been so selfish? I married her. I. Married. Her. What was I thinking? That I had been redeemed? That I deserved a chance? This will end badly; I will fail her spectacularly. It is urgent that I have the Time-Turner, because this time it will not be just me that suffers. No." He spun around, hiding his face from Albus. His shoulders shook with the effort of suppressing his feelings. When he finally turned back around, his wild emotions were firmly under control. He looked at Albus's desk and spoke again. This time his voice was low and serious. "Albus, you must grant me this. Not for myself, but for Hermione. For the world. She has too much to offer to be held back by me." He raised his black eyes to the solemn blue ones before him. "Please, Albus, let me free her. Let me right this wrong."

"Never have I seen you this distraught, Severus," Albus said gently.

Severus hung his head in shame and guilt.

"Not even the night we decided you should become a spy for the Order." Albus stood and walked around his desk. He laid his gnarly hand on Severus's tense shoulder. "You have never asked me for anything before or after that night." The old wizard affectionately squeezed the thin broad shoulder under his hand.

"Severus, my boy, you love Hermione." It was not a question. "I have seen how much. Have you forgotten that when she died - yes, Harry told me all about it - have you forgotten how you felt?"

The anguished man became deathly still. His voice was softer than a whisper. "No, Albus, I have not forgotten. I have no reason to go on without her. She is my very life; she is my reason to be..." The younger wizard looked up into Albus's eyes. "... She is everything to me. I would die for her. I would give my life to make sure that hers is better. I would give everything to ensure that for her. I must. She deserves so much more. It is what must be done. Albus. Albus... please."

"Severus, do not make me do this."

The two looked into each other's eyes. Severus's need became clear to Albus.

Albus's world-weary voice spoke with great reluctance. "If this is something that is absolutely necessary for you, so be it. Yes, Severus, I will give you the Time-Turner." Severus's shoulder relaxed, and Albus squeezed it again.

* * *

He had the Time-Turner. He spent many minutes just staring at the unimposing instrument in his hand: the instrument that would end his marriage, the instrument through which he could ensure that Hermione was never devalued by her association with one such as himself. Their relationship had already ended one of her close friendships, ended it in a way that was deeply hurtful to her. He feared that would not be the worst she would suffer as his wife. For as surely as he stood here, he knew he would be her ruin. He would spare her that. He had to spare her that. Of course it would mean that she would never feel love for him or know he loved her. She would not become soul-bound with him; she would not marry him. She would not help him create the Cruciatus Reversal Potion or become pregnant with their child. She would never know that any of it had happened. But he would know. He would remember. He would always know what he had had, and what he had given up. He knew he would suffer the loss of Hermione in his life. He knew it was a loss from which he would never recover. 

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Unbidden, his mind went back and he saw Hermione's beaming smile when she had been asked to become his assistant.

He could feel the first time she slipped her hand into his, on the roof of Grimmauld Place. He could feel it as if it were happening now.

He remembered her devastation when she thought he hadn't wanted her. He smiled in spite of himself as he recalled how she had cleverly refuted every argument against their relationship, how she had declared that he could be hers and she would be his. As they'd cast their binding spell, he'd seen the love shining in her eyes.

Her memory filled his senses: he could hear her passionate cries; see her flushed face; taste her ardent kisses; smell her wonderful scent; feel her body as they aroused and fulfilled each other.

He felt such pride as he thought of her accomplishments. His throat constricted when he remembered her blind panic at the possibility of Malfoy and Skeeter separating them.

This made him pause to wonder how he could do this to her: use the Time-Turner and separate them, himself. Then he convinced himself with the simple fact that she would never know the pain of separation, because she would never remember any of their time together.

He tried to will the memories away, but they did not heed him. He thought of how she had constantly defended him to their colleagues and her friends. His mind's eye saw Hermione on their wedding day: beautifully incandescent in her joy. He recalled her tears of happiness when she had first felt their baby move.

He shook himself. He knew he had to stop thinking and just do it.

* * *

Severus awoke tangled in his sheets and dripping with perspiration. He reached his hand out in the inky darkness to feel the empty place beside him. He thought he could almost feel Hermione's heat, as if she had been there minutes before. But of course she had not been there. He was alone. He would never awaken next to her again. He had securely locked up his past-self in a place from which escape was impossible. He had taken his place, and this time he would not allow Hermione to get close to him. "What have I done?" he asked the silent room. In his mind the answer reverberated: 'I have done what I had to do.' 

He was beginning to feel the chill of the dungeons as the sweat from his tortured repose cooled on his skin. As he lay back down in his empty bed, an incoherent sound of anguish escaped his lips. Each breath he drew was an agony greater than any he had ever known. He clamped down on his impulse to break down, his desire to curl into a foetal ball and howl his agony to the universe.

He did not give in; he lay rigidly still with his fists balled tightly at his sides. Several torturous minutes later, he sensed something. He bolted upright and tried to feel for his wand. He remembered that he had turned the Time-Turner a bit too far; the Dark Lord was alive and powerful in the past-time he was now in.

He knocked something over as he rummaged for his wand. Someone, or something, was coming closer. It was not the Headmaster, he would announce himself, and no other had access to his private dungeon chambers. If anyone with legitimate intent sought him, they would go to his office or his classroom. He became utterly silent and unmoving, readying himself for attack.

"Severus?"

The candles flared to life and he heard no more. There was only a great rushing sound in his ears as he stared in open-mouthed shock at his pregnant wife. His gaze roved from her wildly matted hair to the dark circles that formed a mask around her eyes, finally coming to rest on her grotesquely swollen ankles that strained above a pair of pushed-down socks. As his gaze travelled back up her body, he took in everything from the tattered and stained Rugby shirt she wore to the grease dripping down her chin from the sausage, onion, peanut butter, and chocolate sandwich she was eating ravenously. He had never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life.

"Severus?" she repeated.

"It was a dream," he whispered with a mixture of disbelief and gratitude.

"Did you have a nightmare?" Hermione asked around a mouthful of her disgusting sandwich.

He was on his feet in an instant, kissing and worshipping the blessed woman he had pulled into his arms. Her sandwich squished between them and his bare chest was slowly being drenched in chocolate sauce and sausage grease. He didn't give it a thought. He only felt waves of relief crashing through him as his lips sought hers.

* * *

Muted sunlight filtered into the room. The morning was chill, as it tended to be in northern Scotland at this time of the year. As Hermione came to awareness, she was struck by the feeling of being watched. She opened one eye slowly to find herself held closely in Severus's arms. This was typical; however, he wasn't asleep as usual. This morning he was staring at her with a strange intensity in his black eyes. 

"Severus?" she questioned groggily.

He gave her a smile that took her breath away.

"Wha time izzit?" she asked through a yawn.

"I believe that it is a bit after ten," he said, a light shining in his black eyes as he brushed her hair back from her face with his large hands.

"Severus," she chastised, "you should've woken me up."

"There was no need." He ran one of his hands worshipfully over her. "You are so beautiful."

"Severus, have you been testing potions on yourself?" she asked seriously.

His deep chuckle vibrated thorough her body. "No, I am clear-headed."

She stretched over and bestowed him with a kiss, before she pulled herself out of bed.

They spent the entire day together, as well as the entirety of those that followed.

* * *

A bit more than a week later, Hermione sat on the sofa beside her best friend, Harry Potter. He watched her as she stared desolately out to sea. Harry was unused to this sort of behaviour from Hermione, and he had no idea what to do or say. 

She turned to him and asked through her tears, "You see, don't you, Harry?"

"Er, no. Not really, Hermione," he admitted tentatively.

"Severus has been so good to me. Well, he's always been good to me; but, not like this. This is different. This is just not right."

"You're complaining because Snape's too nice?"

"No, I'm not complaining because Severus is 'too nice', Harry. I'm saying that he's being so considerate, so demonstrative, so... don't you see? He doesn't love me anymore!"

Harry was completely baffled. He looked at Hermione and really tried to make sense of her despair, but he couldn't. He did the best he could, and tried to change the subject. He picked up a parchment from the table. "I see Skeeter wants an interview."

"Oh! That horrible woman has been after us ever since we were named as the creators of the Cruciatus Reversal Potion. We keep turning her down, and she keeps coming up with more reasons to interview us. Her newest is 'to see how the heroes are faring in the aftermath of the war'. She wants to write an article about our lives, our work, our..." Hermione broke off and fresh tears ran down her face. She wrapped her arms around her stomach and began to shake with sobs.

"So much for a distraction," Harry mumbled.

Severus chose that moment to enter the room. When he saw Hermione, he rushed to her and fell to his knees in front of her. He reached up and ran his fingers through her hair, brushing it gently from her face. "What is it? What's wrong, My Love?" he whispered.

Hermione only cried harder.

"Hermione," Severus began soothingly, as he continued to stroke her hair, "tell me. Whatever it is, I shall fix it for you."

Before anyone realised what was happening, Severus was pushed violently backwards. He landed on the floor on his back. Hermione had moved very quickly, considering her condition, and currently had Severus between her feet. She towered over him and held her wand pointed directly between his eyes. "Who is she?"

"What?" Severus blinked in confusion.

"Don't you dare deny it, Severus Snape. You haven't let me out of your sight for more than a few minutes in over a week. You're overly attentive, utterly compassionate, and excessively indulgent..." She glared accusatorially at the prone wizard. "You, Severus Snape, are being sweet."

"I don't know - "

"Don't give me that," Hermione interrupted. "It must be ... you must be... and you're trying to ... trying to distract me from ... from..." She paused and made an unintelligible sound of fury. "I know, Severus. I know."

"You know what?" he asked, sounding a bit more desperate than he would have wished.

Harry's face twisted and contorted as he bit his inner cheek. He was desperate to restrain the laughter that was threatening to break loose at the look on Severus's face.

Unfortunately, Severus noticed Harry's struggle. "Potter, you are not helping matters!" Snape snarled.

"You, see!" Hermione dropped her wand and crumpled. She landed half on the floor, and half on Severus's legs. "You even love Harry more than me."

The two bewildered wizards could only stare at the distressed witch in shock. Severus caught Harry's eye and mouthed one word: "Molly."

Harry took off towards the Floo connection. As he went, Severus reached up to try and comfort Hermione.

She snatched herself away from him with a shrill "Don't touch me!"

* * *

The Weasley matriarch marched into the room and gave Severus a severe look. "She's sleeping now. I expect you to be with her when she wakes up." 

"Mrs Weasley, what's the matter with her?" Harry's presumptuous question earned him a glare from Severus.

"Nothing is wrong with her, Harry," Mrs Weasley said sternly. "Her hormones are in an uproar, and she's confused about the signals she's been getting from Severus."

"What signals?" Severus snapped.

"You see," Mrs Weasley said, shaking her head in disgust, "no matter how intelligent they are; they don't have a clue."

"Madam - " Severus bristled.

"Now, Severus," Molly interrupted in conciliation, "I didn't mean anything by it. Arthur was the same way when I was carrying Ginny, bless him."

Harry glanced at Snape, wondering how he was taking being likened to Arthur.

Not well; however, Molly didn't notice. "You've done everything that anyone could expect of you, Severus," Molly continued, as she straightened some cushions. "Just keep on doing as you have been, and be patient. Be very patient, Severus. It won't be long now. You're not a pregnant woman, so you can't understand how Hermione feels."

Harry and Severus glanced at each other as Molly turned to tidy some parchments on a table, each seeing in the other's eyes how glad they were that they weren't women, pregnant or not. It was a surreal shared moment, and neither one wanted to prolong it. Severus scowled, and Harry rose. "I'll just be leaving you to it, then," he said. "Tell Hermione I'll come by again."

Severus's scowl turned to a sneer as he watched Harry walk towards the door. "Indeed," he spat at Harry's retreating back.

"I'll be going too, Severus," Molly said, coming up to him and giving him a pat on the shoulder. "You're doing just fine."

Severus tamped down on the urge to lash out at Molly for touching him. He schooled his features into polite impassivity and said, "Thank you, Molly."

When Hermione woke later that day, she was in a fine mood. It was as if none of it had happened. Severus fought the urge to rush outside and throw himself from the cliffs. He mumbled as much, and Hermione responded by telling him it would be a very messy way to die: splattered on the sharp rocks with the sea washing over his body.

Severus thought it might be very satisfying, but he knew better than to voice that opinion.

However, later that night in bed, he revelled in life and his wife. As he massaged her body and lost himself in the exquisite feel of her softness, he came to two glaring realisations: the first being that he was smart enough to refrain from consciously wishing anything undone, no matter how noble that notion might be; the second being that he was very fortunate that he was alive and with Hermione, no matter how difficult it was to deal with her pregnancy hormones.

* * *

Harry Potter had been a frequent visitor to Snape-on-Westray recently. He had been elected by Remus, Tonks, Ginny, Albus and Minerva to be Severus's main source of respite. 

The polished wood of the massive front door gleamed in the morning sunlight as Harry stood before it. He raised his hand and knocked firmly. He was in a very good mood. He knew something that Hermione didn't, and he was going to dangle that in front of her mercilessly. He stood there waiting an inordinately long time for Quimple to answer the door. When the door finally creaked open, he was surprised to find Reny there, twisting her ears and shifting from foot to foot. The little elf didn't speak; she just looked up at Harry with large frightened eyes.

A muffled sound reached Harry's ears. He glanced down as Reny squeaked and ran back into the house. Voldemort was permanently gone, but Harry knew that some of his supporters were still free. He knew that those supporters would blame Snape, as much as Harry, for Voldemort's demise. They might even feel that they had more of a score to settle with the spy who had been in their midst for years. This house was isolated, making Snape a much easier target for revenge than Harry.

The front door swung and creaked in the breeze, and the sound came again. Harry realised that it was definitely the sound of torture. He wasted no time; he pulled out his wand and rushed into the house. Upon entry, he saw no clear indication of which way to go, so he hesitated. He didn't have to wait long before he heard it again. It was coming from the back of the house, a place he had only been to on his initial tour of the property. It was coming from the Snapes' private chambers.

He followed the sound as quickly as possible; he ran through the main library and arrived at Hermione and Snape's bedroom door in an instant. He paused, listening at the thick wood. The sound came again. They were in there. They must have been caught unawares while they were still asleep.

Harry silently opened the door, hoping to catch the perpetrators by surprise. He pointed his wand at Hermione's tormentor, only to see her move to one side, chuckle and say, "We'll wait and see if your water will break on its own. I'd rather not interfere unless it's absolutely necessary." Harry's adrenaline-filled brain was finally focusing on the room before him; Snape was by Hermione's head, stroking her hair and murmuring in her ear, and Hermione was... Hermione was... Harry let out a strange sound when he realised he was looking directly at the naked and open juncture of Hermione's spread legs. Everything got really bright, and then dimmed as he heard the far away voice of Severus Snape yelling at him.

"Potter!" Severus snarled, "stop that insufferable puling and remove yourself at once."

* * *

When Harry opened his eyes, he found that he had been propped on a small sofa in the corner of the room. Someone, 'probably the midwife,' he mused, had placed him there and elevated his feet. There was something trickling into his eyes behind his glasses. He reached up and pulled a damp flannel off his forehead. He swung his feet down to the floor and looked cautiously toward the sound of voices. Hermione was no longer splayed open before him. She was covered by a pretty white linen night-robe, and she was bent over Snape's lap with her hands braced on his knees. She was looking into Snape's face, and Snape was speaking to her in soft tones. Harry felt much better with this scene before him. He was just beginning to relax, and was about to ask if he could do anything to help, when Hermione gasped. Harry's eyes were drawn to the sound of liquid hitting the floor between Hermione's feet. He looked up and saw that her thin night-robe was soaked from the waist down. He watched as Snape reached down and drew the soaked garment off Hermione. He saw an entirely nude Hermione clinging to Snape's shoulders and rocking slightly. He saw Snape soothing her by slowly stoking up and down the sides of her naked body...

* * *

Harry was jerked out of his most recent descent into blessed oblivion by a sharp pain on the top of his left foot. He looked around to blearily see Snape guiding a clothed Hermione in a walk around the chambers. As they passed him, Snape deliberately trod sharply on his instep. His pained exclamation drew attention to the fact that he had regained consciousness, again. 

"Harry Potter," Snape intoned sarcastically, "our conquering hero."

Harry blushed.

"You should not be in here," Severus snarled. "Go and wait in an appropriate place." Severus added, in a voice dripping with derision, "If you can manage it, assist Quimple in informing the necessary parties that Hermione is in labour."

Harry didn't have time to respond. The midwife hurried back into the room and spoke to Hermione.

"Come on, Hermione, we need to check your dilation."

Severus walked Hermione to the bed where she lay down. The midwife reached down and began to lift Hermione's robe. Harry didn't even hear Snape's growled "Potter, out! Now!" because he was running for the door. In a nearly perfect imitation of Tonks, he tripped and fell. His head made jarring contact with the sharp corner of the stone fireplace, and he knew no more.

* * *

After a fuzzy climb to consciousness Harry hesitantly opened his eyes. He was relieved that Hermione was not lying down on the foot of the bed with her legs spread, as she had been preparing to do when he'd tried to make his escape. His eyes found Hermione at the head of the bed. She was kneeling across it with her arms on Snape's shoulders. Snape had his hands on her waist, and he was bearing the weight of her upper body as he murmured encouragement in her ear. Harry's traitorous eyes took in the rest of the scene against the direct orders of his brain. He noticed that Hermione was, again, entirely naked. 

He heard the midwife say, "Keep pushing, you're almost there."

He heard Hermione groan as his eyes travelled to the spot that held the midwife's attention. There, displayed before him, was a small jet-black head coming out of Hermione's body. Harry saw blood and other fluids dripping onto the mattress between Hermione's knees and pooling...

* * *

This time when Harry woke on the small sofa, he didn't open his eyes right away. He only knew that whatever might be going on in the room, he didn't want to see it. He sat up slowly and angled his head down. He would look at the floor only and make his way carefully out of there. 

He had only a made it a few steps when he heard Hermione. She was speaking softly and didn't seem to be in any pain. However, her voice sounded very tired. "She's absolutely perfect."

Harry flinched when he heard Snape respond, "Indeed, she is."

Harry was almost knocked over by the midwife as she bustled into the room. "Mr Potter, I presume," she whispered congenially, as she straightened herself from where she had bumped into him. "Come, meet Severus and Hermione's daughter."

"I, uh -"

She turned Harry towards the bed. His stomach lurched at what he saw. The bed had been cleaned and changed, as had the three people in it. Hermione was now dressed in a white velvet robe, and she reclined in Severus's arms, while their newborn daughter slept in hers. One of Severus's long fingers was gently stroking the baby's tiny head. Neither of them seemed to notice Harry or the midwife.

Harry heard Hermione speak softly, "She's so beautiful, Severus."

Severus's tone was low and intimate as he responded. "She is. As are you, My Love." Hermione leaned deeper into Severus's embrace. "Rest - " he began, only to be cut off by the midwife.

"Mr Potter's ready to meet the wee one," she announced cheerily.

Harry's response was cut off by a deep derisive voice. "Yes, Harry, do. I am sure that my daughter would love to meet The Boy Who ... Fainted." Severus paused to enjoy Harry's discomfort. Then he continued in an icy tone. "As now is an appropriate time for you to join us."

"Severus," Hermione admonished, "I'm sure Harry would have left when you asked him ... if he had been able..."

Severus made an indignant sound deep in his throat. That sound usually signaled the folding of his arms over his chest, accompanied by him drawing himself up to his full intimidating stance. Harry was surprised to see that he made no move to do either. Instead, he remained on the bed, with his family in his arms.

Harry blinked.

"Go on then," the midwife said. "Go see her."

Harry cautiously approached the three on the bed. When he got closer, he glanced into the white blanket to see a small red creature that he thought resembled a Mandrake more than anything else.

Hermione whispered, "Harry Potter, I would like you to meet Senua Snape."

Harry smiled at Hermione's beaming face.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Hermione asked.

The baby girl opened her eyes and looked right at Harry. Even though Harry knew he had to be imagining things, he could have sworn that she was glaring at him. He knew he had to lie. He wasn't about to hurt Hermione's feelings, or earn Severus's wrath, by saying that their baby looked like a tiny red Mandrake. Harry managed to say, "Yes, she is." As he looked closer at the infant, he realised that she really was beautiful. Harry was looking at her features now, rather than her red-wrinkliness. He could clearly see that she was a reflection of the best of both of her parents.

Hermione's head dropped wearily back onto Severus's chest. "That's it," Severus snapped, "Hermione needs rest. We shall see you tomorrow, Harry."

"If you'll wait a minute, I'll get my bag and walk out with you, Mr Potter," the midwife said.

"Sure," Harry agreed.

* * *

I would like to thank Nakhash Mekashefah for brilliantly beta reading this fic. The generous gift of her time and energy is much appreciated.

* * *

_A/ N:_

_I did not do the birth from Hermione's point of view, because I might have ended up re-telling the birth of my son, or something close to it. To avoid that faux pas, we have Harry's odd point of view for the birth._

_The names;_

_Sulevis, Sulis, Senua, Sulla, Sul, Sulivia, Suliviae, are all names for the same Goddess. She is believed to be an older Celtic Goddess, who was adopted by the Romans and is the Celtic equivilant of their Goddess, Minerva._

_Some say that Sulis is the male version, however, there are just as many authorities on the subject who assert that the name Sulis was the name of a Goddess._

_Naming Resources used on the Internet:_

_www . guardian . co . uk / arts / news / story / 0,11711,1033318,00 . html_

_Other references:_

_The New Book of Goddesses and Heroines, by Patricia Monaghan, pp. 286-287_

_The Gods of Roman Britain, by Miranda Jane Green, pp.29-31_

_Dictionary of Celtic Myth and Legend, by Miranda J. Green, pp.200-202_

_Celt and Greek: Celts in the Hellenic World, by Peter B. Ellis, p. 50_


	3. Intimacies and Intrigues

Many thanks to Nakhash Mekashefah for beta reading this fic! The time and effort she invests is greatly appreciated!

* * *

_A/N:  
This chapter contains more fluff than that with which Winnie The Pooh is stuffed._

* * *

Disclaimer : Harry Potter and his universe belong to J. K. Rowling. I am making no profit. Nor am I claiming creation or ownership of anything Harry Potter related. All of it is J. K. Rowling's, or Bloomsbury Books, or the WB's, or whomever's. It's not mine. Pity.

-  
Many thanks to Nakhash Mekashefah for beta reading this fic! The time and effort she invests is greatly appreciated!  
-

A/N:  
This chapter contains more fluff than that with which Winnie The Pooh is stuffed.

Two months had passed since the birth of Senua Snape. During the entire two months, there had been a steady stream of visitors to Snape-on-Westray. Nicoleta Snape, or Summer as she liked to be called, was one of their frequent guests. During today's early morning visit, she'd announced that she had purchased a small property 'just a stone's throw away from Snape-on-Westray'. She'd settled in, explaining that she had taken leave from her position as head of The Salem Witches' Institute, in order to be close-by... to help with the baby'. Severus was utterly furious. An argument had ensued, culminating with him storming off and virtually sequestering himself in his lab.

Severus sat in the underground portion of his home, in the potions lab. He absently stirred an innocuous concoction. He wasn't down there to brew a potion. He was sulking. He was brooding. All he wanted was to be alone with his wife... The more he thought, the more he realised just how much he wanted to reacquaint himself with Hermione's body, scent, taste... The more his mind wandered down this path, the more he became awash in self-deprecation. He cared for Hermione more than life itself, but at this moment, his brain was fogged by his lust for her. His self-deprecation receded as he bitterly remembered what he had just learnt. He had learnt that his wife was intentionally withholding herself from him physically. He had pushed that discovery aside to concentrate on helping with the baby and seeing to the myriad of things that needed to be done to keep their lives on track. Here, now, he had time to think, and think he did.

The previous day he had gone to see Hermione's midwife. That meeting was prompted by a discussion he had been forced into with Arthur Weasley. Arthur mentioned in passing that he 'must be relieved to be enjoying Hermione's charms once again'. He was appalled by Arthur's presumptuousness, but then he became concerned. He subtly questioned the man and discovered that Hermione's body should have been sufficiently healed almost a month ago. He, being the quintessential pessimist, was sure that something dreadful was wrong with wife.

He had left that discussion with Arthur filled with a building sense of dread and panic. He'd flown to the office of Hermione's midwife. After intimidating and terrifying her secretary, the midwife had welcomed him into her office and answered his questions. She had told him that Hermione was completely well. That Hermione had been able to resume relations with him for weeks, now. He had asked if Hermione knew. The midwife laughed outright, while assuring him that she had told Hermione that particular detail during Hermione's final examination.

So here he sat, wondering what it was that 'had brought Hermione to her senses'. Wondering when she had realised, like everyone else that he had ever known, that physical closeness with him was repugnant. He was surprised she had ever been attracted to him. It was not a surprise to now discover she was not. He thought some more and realised that wasn't quite right. Hermione still got close to him. She kissed him; she wanted him to hold her; she cuddled up to him in bed... It would seem it was the act of sexual intimacy that she was avoiding, rather than all physical closeness to him. He spent most of the morning pondering that point: if she wasn't repulsed by him, then what was it that was making her keep herself from him? She had wanted him before. She had been sexually voracious in their courtship and early marriage, and she had been insatiable during her pregnancy. Even after the birth of their child, when she had been torn apart and exhausted, she had tried to engage him in sensual encounters that would bring him satisfaction. He had declined. He had no desire to take sexual gratification from her when she was unable to receive in kind. He wondered if this had put her off. He honestly couldn't understand it. He finally decided to wait and see what she would do.

* * *

Severus silently closed the door behind him and made his way stealthily to the sitting room. He was greeted by the sight of Hermione feeding Senua. He had heard that some first-time fathers experienced jealousy. He couldn't understand that; he felt nothing but a deep sense of pride and protectiveness when he saw Hermione caring for his child. Perhaps it was because he had been secluded, living the life of a spy for so many years. Perhaps it was because of the rejections he'd suffered in his youth, which led him to believe that he would spend his life in solitude, utterly bereft of the typical and simple pleasures of friends and family, the experiences that he saw the wizards around him so callously take for granted. Whatever the reason, jealously was the furthest thing from what this sight engendered in him. He felt abounding gratitude and awe as he drank in the vision before him: the curve of Hermione's throat and shoulder beneath her softly upswept hair; the peaches and cream of her skin; and the gentle way she caressed their daughter's head as she fed her. A wave of self-loathing, borne of guilt over his recent thoughts, surfaced inside Severus. He wondered how he could have considered tainting something so sacred with his baser urges. He shook the unwanted thoughts away and made his way to his wife and child. He knelt beside them and reached out a long finger to stroke his daughter's pale cheek. He looked up into Hermione's face. She hadn't looked up from the baby.

"I -" he began, only to be cut off by Hermione.

"It's OK, Severus. I'm not so sure I want your cousin that close-by, either. We've had so many people in and out of here," she sighed wearily, "it's almost as if we're married to a mob rather than each other."

"Indeed," he agreed softly.

"Severus," she began tentatively, "I'd like to spend some time alone."

"I understand," he said tonelessly, as he schooled his features into a mask of impassivity.

Hermione shook her head in slight exasperation at his assumption. "No, Severus," she said, "I would like to spend some time alone with you. There are some things we need to discuss."

Severus felt his heart plummet into his feet and then rise up to lodge in his throat. "Of course," he responded, giving no indication of the emotions warring within him.

* * *

Severus and Hermione Snape stood in their foyer, before their Floo connection. During the last few days, the Snapes' recurrent visitors were pressed into service. Every guest suite at Snape-on-Westray was now full. Molly and Arthur Weasley were in one of the two second-floor guest suites, while the suites on the first floor hosted Harry, Tonks, Minerva, and Summer.

"We could bring her," Hermione mumbled, as she cuddled her sleeping daughter close.

Severus laid his large hand on the downy head that was nestled in the crook of Hermione's neck. His "If you wish..." was lost amongst the resounding "Nos!" that came from their guests.

Molly Weasley took the baby from Hermione and said sternly, "She'll be fine. Really! I've never heard of one tiny baby being watched by six people before. It's only one night; you won't even have time to miss her."

"Now, get going, you two," Remus added with a smile, as Ginny pushed Hermione into the massive fireplace.

* * *

They arrived in the impressive lobby of a new hotel in Hogsmeade. It was a completely hidden destination. Only those witches and wizards who were invited to partake of the facilities could find or see the establishment. Hermione had received an invitation when she was lauded for her part in the creation of the Cruciatus Reversal Potion. She had never mentioned it to Severus. She wanted to keep it as a surprise, perhaps for their anniversary... However, she'd decided she needed all the help she could get right now. She had to talk to him, and it wasn't going to be an easy discussion.

The hotel was built just after the fall of Voldemort. It worked somewhat along the lines of the Room of Requirement. Severus was completely unaware of the special abilities of the hotel, as this stay was geared to Hermione. Severus merely thought that they were spending a weekend in a mundane, if posh, hotel. The entire building and grounds would cater to Hermione's requirements, and that was one of them: that Severus not realise that her requirements were being met in such a way.

She suppressed a giggle as she remembered one of her mother's old programmes. She almost expected a man dressed in white to come forward with a drink, toast them, and say: "I am Mr. Roarke, your host...welcome to Fantasy Island!"

Instead, Hermione and Severus were met by a discreet employee of the hotel who was garbed in tasteful dress robes. They were taken to a suite on the top floor. Before Hermione could thank him, their escort had discretely withdrawn.

Hermione and Severus walked into their suite; it was actually one very spacious room. To the right was an impressive library. Situated comfortably in front of the massive shelves of books were two deep-brown upholstered leather armchairs. Next to these was a matching sofa in front of an expansive black marble fireplace. Tables made of a wood so dark that they seemed to be a mix of rich brown and black were scattered in convenient places. Most were bare. However, one held two ancient tomes under glass: one on the Dark Arts and one on Potions; another held a sumptuous arrangement of comestibles ranging from Beluga caviar and foie gras, to artisan cheeses and meats; while a third bar-shaped table boasted a wide variety of wines, as well as cognac, and various other liquors.

Leading from this relaxing space to the 'bedroom' portion of the room was a dining table in co-ordinating woods and leathers. The sleeping side of the room held a massive bed, night tables, and armoires. The simple masculine theme was carried throughout in the dark rich woods and fabrics.

Finally, the bath could be seen through open doors off the bedroom portion of the room. It was done entirely in black marble with gold accents, and its style was simple and elegant.

Severus, who had expected the typical florals and fresh fruits, was speechless as he inhaled the scent of leather and books.

Hermione smiled to herself at his reaction. This was what she had wanted from her 'Hotel of Requirement': something that would please Severus's senses. Draw him out. She smiled to herself as she thought smugly: 'disarm him.' She moved into the room and seated herself in one of the armchairs.

Severus followed suit. He observed Hermione sitting primly with her hands folded in her lap. His eyes swept over her form, from her heavy robes to the starched high-necked blouse she wore under a thick full jacket, on down to the tops of her boots that barely peeped out from under the heavy layers of her skirts. His eyes finally came to rest on her hands, held neatly in her lap, with double-sleeves that ended mid-hand. He realised that her clothing style had changed since the birth of their child. On a routine basis, he had seen no more of her skin than from mid-hand to finger tip and chin to hairline. It was only when she fed Senua that he got a glimpse of her neck or shoulder. She had even taken to sleeping in long-sleeved, high-necked concoctions that swept the floor. With socks. Thick woollen socks. Realising that she was speaking, he looked at her face.

Hermione spoke to her hands, not meeting Severus's eyes. "...if that's acceptable to you?" she finished.

"Anything you wish, Hermione," he said, wondering what he had agreed to while his mind wandered.

"I'll fix you a plate, then, shall I?" she said demurely.

"Certainly," Severus answered.

Hermione filled a plate for Severus and brought him a glass of perfectly paired wine. He accepted the plate and glass.

Before he could ask why she hadn't fixed one for herself, she spoke, peeking at him from beneath lowered lashes. "I'll just freshen up." Before he could answer, she made a hasty retreat to the bath.

* * *

When Hermione returned from the bath, she found, to her delight, that Severus had emptied his plate and glass and was engrossed in a book.

"It's chilly, I'll just light a fire," she said in an even tone.

Severus glanced up and wondered how in Merlin's name the woman could be cold. 'She's wearing more layers now than she was earlier,' his irreverent mind noted with disdain.

She lit a fire and settled in the chair opposite with a book. They read in peace for an hour when Hermione spoke into the silence. "Severus, I think we should talk."

He had been waiting for this. He lowered his book with a cold dread spreading through his veins. He looked at his wife and he knew. He knew she was going to ask for a chaste marriage... or worse. Chaste he could do; he could visit the working-witches in Knockturn Alley. No, he realised that even in a chaste marriage that would be a betrayal. He would merely become accustomed to his own hand. It had not been that long since he was forced to resort to such, on the rare occasion when his self-control snapped... when he was young and his body was suffused with hormones. Surely, it had only been a few years... Yes, he could do that. He would do whatever it took. What he didn't know was what he would do if her 'talk' involved something even worse.

Severus looked into Hermione's eyes and gave no indication of his fear.

She blushed under his scrutiny and lowered her eyes. "Um," she stammered, "it's a bit warm now, isn't it?" she asked, in what Severus saw as an obvious attempt at stalling.

"Quite," he agreed smoothly.

He continued to watch as she shrugged off her heavy shawl, and she glanced up before tentatively removing her outer robes. Now she looked right at Severus and blushed a deeper rouge. "I just can't seem to think; it's oppressive in here," she said sheepishly.

His gaze became transfixed as she slowly began to unbutton her jacket. She worked one button open, and then trailed her hands down to the next. His breath hitched as she moved slowly down to the next, and the next, gradually revealing a glimpse of her starched white blouse. His breathing sped up as she finished the buttons and began to peel the jacket off. She drew it open slowly, almost caressingly, over her breasts and slid it down her arms. He forgot to breathe. She carefully placed it on the floor beside her chair.

"I thought you were warm, as well?" she asked.

Severus nodded stiffly and hastily removed his outer robes. When he looked at Hermione again, she was standing.

"Would you like a drink while we talk?" she asked. She didn't wait for an answer; she just poured him a drink. When she handed it to him, her cotton-covered breast brushed his arm. Even through all her layers and his, he almost moaned at the contact.

Hermione returned to her seat across from him and said, "I think my feet could use a rest, too." She reached down and lifted her skirt. All Severus saw was her matronly ankle boots as she deftly undid them and slipped them off. He missed her next words as he stared transfixed at her silk stocking-clad feet. He assumed she had mentioned his feet because, before he knew it, she was kneeling in front of him removing his boots and socks.

When he was barefoot, she looked shyly up at him from her position on the floor at his feet. She smiled and unbuttoned the sleeves of her blouse. At his arched eyebrow, she explained, "I just can't seem to get comfortable. I should never have lit such a fire."

Her words failed to penetrate his brain. All he could think of was her tiny hands as they opened the top buttons of her blouse. From his angle above her, he could clearly glimpse her ample cleavage. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he hoped he wasn't drooling. He felt deserted when she left her position, kneeling at his feet, to return to her own chair. He saw her luscious mouth speaking, but he had no idea what she was saying. All he could hear was the rushing of the blood in his ears as she reached up and took the pins out of her hair. Her tight bun fell down in soft waves as she shook her hair out. He caught the words "restrictive" and "stockings". Hermione stood and placed one dainty foot on the arm of the chair she had been sitting in. Her hands disappeared up under her skirts. It was obvious from her movements that she was moving her hands slowly up her leg to the top of her stocking. Then it became clear that she was rolling the silk down her leg. As her foot was bared, all higher brain functions ceased for Severus Snape. She made the same slow work of her other stocking and, finally, she withdrew her garter.

She saw the dazed look on her wizard's face and dropped all pretence. She waved her hand and slow, sensual music began to play. She unbuttoned her blouse the rest of the way and peeled it off, dropping it at Severus's feet. She swayed before Severus, wearing a scant black silk and lace chemise that was tucked into her skirts. His mouth dropped open as her hands moved to the clasp of her outer skirt. She opened the clasp and let the skirt fall to the floor, revealing a black satin petticoat. She stepped out of the circle of her discarded skirt and kicked it away. Still in rhythm with the pulsing beat, she moved, running her hands over her arms up to her throat and down to the tops of her breasts that peaked out of her chemise. She danced around behind Severus's chair and, when she came into sight again, her petticoat was gone. She was mesmerising as she moved to the music before him. She ran her hands around her body, drawing her fingers slowly down the silk of her chemise to its lace hem that fell just below her knees. Then she skimmed her hands up under her chemise, raising the sides and back slightly as she shimmied, and black lace knickers fell down to land gracefully at her feet. She danced out of the knickers, picking them up and swaying to the music as her body became suffused with a deep blush.

Severus finally managed to speak. When he did, the one word came out like a strangled prayer: "Hermione."

That was what she has been waiting for. She climbed into his lap and sat facing him, one leg on either side of his thighs. She still swayed to the music, moving him with her. She rubbed herself on the wool of his frock coat and trousers and whispered in his ear, "Severus, I need to talk to you. That's why we're here. I need to tell you something. I need you to understand." She pulled back and looked into his confused eyes.

"What is it?" he asked, in a voice that was way too rough to be his own.

"Severus, I want you," she whispered.

"What?"

"I want you. That's what I needed to tell you, what I needed to talk to you about. You don't know what it does to me to sleep next to you and not touch you. I burn for you, Severus. Please, please..."

"Hermione..."

"Severus, please. I've missed your touch so much. Severus, please..." she leaned in and breathed into his ear, "please touch me, Severus."

Severus's brain finally comprehended what was happening. He realised that Hermione had brought him here to seduce him. He needed no more encouragement. He swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed. He laid her gently on her back. She fell to the bed with her arms curved over her head and her legs slightly open. Severus leaned in over her and looked into her eyes. He saw her love for him, and her desire. His gaze heated and he lowered his lips to hers.

* * *

Hermione lay in a blissful puddle on top of the duvet. Not one part of her body remained uncaressed. Every inch of her person had been touched, kissed, and worshipped by Severus Snape. Their passion had known no bounds. They had fulfilled each other in every way possible, again and again. She turned her head and found him gazing at her. He looked pleased. She nestled her face in his neck, and he wrapped his arm around her. As he pulled her to him, they fell together into a sated sleep.

* * *

"Good morning." She smiled.

"Good morning, indeed," he intoned. He took her lips with his, drawing her into a kiss.

As the kiss intensified and deepened, it felt as though her very being was tearing itself from her body in its quest to join with his. It was good. So good. She was lost in the dizzying sensations of being overwhelmed by Severus Snape.

Reluctantly, he withdrew from their kiss. He brushed the hair from her face. "We need to get dressed. As much as I'm sure she's been doted upon, Senua must be missing you. I'm sure her hunger has been met; however, magic is no substitute for her real mother," he said sagely.

"I know." Hermione smiled up into the black depths of Severus's eyes.

"Allow me," he said as he slipped from the bed. Before Hermione's confused gaze could discern his intent, he returned and knelt by her legs. "Allow me to robe you, as you disrobed for me," he murmured. He caressed her foot, then looked up at her. His gaze was hungry and piercing at the same time. "However, next time you strip for me, make sure you finish the job properly." He smirked. His deep voice took on an even more sensual quality as he expounded, "I prefer you completely naked." He said no more as he began to put her boots on her feet. Not the boots she had worn the day before, and throughout her pregnancy, but the boots he had given her the day she had received her dagger and seal.

"Severus," she said in a voice that betrayed her mortification, "those won't fit me."

"Of course, they will," he countered.

"No, they won't," she whispered.

He looked up at her red face and explained: "I had them altered. They will fit you."

"It's no wonder you aren't attracted to me anymore, Severus. You -"

"Not attracted to you?"

"Yes, you made that clear not long after Senua was born. I'd hoped you were just ... waiting. Although, for what I couldn't fathom. Now I understand. You simply don't want me."

Her words echoed in his head; it was not like Hermione to be insecure. He knew he had to handle this carefully.

Hermione tried to squirm out of his hands but he held her firmly by the ankles from where he was crouched by her legs.

"Merlin's bones, woman," he exclaimed, as he placed a kiss to the back of her knee. He mumbled indistinct appreciation as he trailed fervent kisses up the inside of her leg. He burrowed his face into the lavish flesh of her inner thigh but she understood his words, nonetheless. "Your thighs are like silk, so soft..." he trailed off, as he kissed his way up over the generous curve of her stomach. He ran his hands up and down her bountiful hips. "Your curves are so sweet, so enticing." He ran his hands smoothly up to her breasts and deftly handled them. Looking into her face, he breathed, "Your breasts are exquisite, so heavy, so full." His hands roved to her arms and he gently pushed them above her head. He traced her upper arms and exhaled in satisfaction. He kissed across her shoulder and up her throat. He brushed her mouth with his and spoke against her lips. "You are so round, so soft, so sensuous. I could spend eternity lost in your luscious, curvaceous body. You are a Goddess, Hermione, full and graceful." He pulled back and looked sincerely into her eyes. "You are voluptuous. Nothing could be more attractive to me. You are a Goddess."

Hermione looked at him sceptically. "Then why did you reject me?"

"Reject you?" he sneered. "I never rejected you. I merely wished to wait for your readiness." He looked intently at her. "I know of what you speak. I could have taken your offer; I most assuredly appreciated the thought. You are so open, so giving. You would have given me release; yet, I preferred to wait for more than simple release." He took her face in his hands to impress his point. "I derive pleasure from your pleasure, as well. It makes everything much... more. I was willing to wait for you, for us."

"But, I'm not as I was when you first desired me," she whispered.

Do not mistake me: I desired you then, and I desire you now. I would desire you if you looked like Alastor Moody. It is the sum of you that I desire, not just your physical beauty." He put his hand on her mouth to silence her interruption. "I desire you more with each passing day, My Love. I desire all that is you: your brilliant mind; your soft heart; your very soul; as well as your beautiful body."

* * *

Summer bustled into the Three Broomsticks. Hermione rushed over to meet her. She reached out and took her baby daughter from Summer's arms. "I'm so glad you could come," she said, as she led Summer to a table where Severus sat reading the Daily Prophet, and snorting derisively. The women sat and they all ate a satisfying, if very late, breakfast. When the food was gone and the three sat sipping their tea, they made plans for the afternoon. Or rather, Severus made their plans for them.

"Nicoleta," Severus began imperiously, "if you would be so kind as to accompany my wife to Gladrags - "

"Oh," Summer interrupted, "are you clothes shopping, Hermione?"

"At Severus's insistence," Hermione groused to his American cousin. "My old clothes would have fit again! I had planned to lose a stone - well, three stone, truth be told - but Severus -"

"Oh ho!" Summer exclaimed. "No need to explain. Severus always has liked his women soft. It's a good thing we're cousins, eh?" Severus's corpulent cousin teased.

Severus glowered, not deigning to rise to Summer's bait.

"Never mind that he grew up in the seventies," Summer continued, "Sevvie always has loved bountiful women. He never could muster himself for stick women; he has always preferred women with curves. Don't fret, Hermione, dear, in a few years - or maybe after having a couple more babies - you'll get there."

"Nicoleta," Severus hissed, "my wife is perfect as she is, she need not change in any way!" Severus turned to face Hermione, his tone turning to one of quiet command. "You will replace everything. I cannot abide the things you have been wearing of late. You will not seek to hide yourself from me. You will return to dressing as you did before Senua was born."

Hermione, shocked by her husband's words, merely nodded mutely.

Summer smirked to herself, happy in the knowledge that she could still manipulate Severus Snape. She was sure she had made him say exactly what his little wife needed to hear. "Well, then, should we get moving?"

"I shall walk with you as far as the Post Office," Severus informed them.

They rose and, with a majestic billow of Severus's black robes, he ushered the ladies into the street.

None of them had noticed the cloaked figure intently listening and watching them. The same figure that was now following them.


	4. Events and Eventualities

* * *

AN:

I was asked, "How about some fluff and kissing :)"  
How could I refuse?

So here it is just for you;  
an different ending with a kiss or two.

* * *

Hermione walked in the general direction of Gladrags Wizardwear's Hogsmeade location. Her daughter slept peacefully in her arms as her husband guided her with a gentle hand in the small of her back. It was a lovely day, and Hermione was content. Her eyes lazily roamed the streets as Summer continued to talk of America, her voice a mere background hum for Hermione, Severus, and baby Senua. They all continued in this insouciant manner for several minutes, their ease unbroken, until Hermione stopped abruptly, causing Severus to pull her to him as he looked about in alarm. His distress abated when he saw the object of Hermione's fascination: Ginny Weasley.

The young redheaded woman walked on, not realising she was the object of Hermione Snape's scrutiny. Hermione's eyes didn't miss a facet of Ginny's demeanour or appearance. All of Ginny's attention was fixed on the man who walked beside her, holding her arm linked through his in a most gentlemanly fashion; the gaze she bestowed upon him was nothing short of adoring. Her robes were crumpled, as if she had worn them for more than one day in a row, and in her free hand, she held a slightly wilting, beribboned wreath of flowers. As Hermione's regard turned towards Ginny's companion, her eye was caught by a gleam of gold on Ginny's left ring finger: a simple slim band of precious metal that shone brightly in the morning sunlight. As Hermione stared, a large hand covered Ginny's and patted it lovingly. Hermione followed the hand up to the man's face and watched as Remus Lupin looked down upon Ginny with obvious pride.

As the pair drew near, it was Severus who spoke, his deep sarcastic tone breaking the reverie of the two. "Robbing Molly Weasley's cradle may prove hazardous to your health, Lupin."

Remus Lupin's eyes snapped to Severus's as Ginny gave a startled yelp.

"Remus," Hermione looked from Remus to Ginny, "Ginny, you're married?" Hermione asked with growing excitement.

Ginny looked at her older friend and beamed. "We were married yesterday." Ginny blushed.

"So it would seem," Severus drawled as he looked pointedly at their rumpled clothes. The two women embraced joyfully as Remus addressed Severus.

"We ... uh," Remus began shyly, "spent our wedding night at the inn. We eloped; so, packing was really -"

"I see," Severus cut him off, inadvertently saving him further embarrassment. "Have you told no one, then?" he asked.

"Well, we've told you," Ginny said with a nervous laugh.

"Oh, Ginny," Hermione said softly, "you know how your mother's going to react." Then her face took on a horrified look as she added, "And Ron'll go berserk." She turned to Remus. "He'll come after you, Remus, he'll try to hurt you."

"I know, Hermione," Remus said sadly. "I won't be surprised if Ron attempts to use an Unforgivable on me for marrying Ginny." He added brightly, "At least Harry will be fine with it, don't you think? It's OK, really, Hermione, it is. We've talked about it all, Ginny and I. We are both prepared for people's reactions."

"Ron's a given and we'll deal with it. And compared to Remus, Harry is completely inadequate!" Ginny added vehemently. Realising what she had unintentionally given away in her rush to defend her marriage, her blush deepened into a vivid scarlet as she cast her eyes downward.

Severus sneered in obvious distaste as a light pink stain crept into Remus's cheeks.

Hermione broke the tension. "Let's not stand about in the street, we should go somewhere. Celebrate. Have you two had breakfast, yet?"

Remus steeled himself and looked Hermione in the eye. "We took breakfast in our... in our... room." The pink stain on Remus's face deepened to that of a ripe tomato.

"Good!" Summer said heartily. She knew the time to jump in and diffuse a situation when she saw it. "Let's all -"

Summer's attempt was cut off by a loud 'pop' of Apparition followed by crazed screaming. "You married my sister!"

"It would seem that Mr Weasley has been informed," Severus drawled.

His snide comment was unheard under the barrage of Ron's anger. "You SICK, PERVERTED WEREWOLF!"

"Ron, NO!" Ginny shouted.

Ron, however, was ignoring the object of his unnecessary protection. "Did you TOUCH her? Did you TOUCH my BABY SISTER?"

Ron turned to Ginny. "Did he put his hands on you?"

"Of course, Ron," Ginny snapped. "We're married. We're married and -"

"Are you a werewolf's whore, then?" Ron spat at his sister.

"That's my big brother," Ginny announced angrily, "always protecting and caring for me." Ginny glared at Ron and continued speaking about him. "Loving and sweet he is..."

"I wonder who told him?" Hermione whispered to her husband.

Suddenly, there was a flash of light and everything was shrouded by thick smoke. Hermione was on her knees, screaming and doubled-over in agony. In a blur, Severus was kneeling beside her as Ginny took their baby and backed away, so Severus and Summer would have room to help Hermione. As Summer bent down to and try to help her, Hermione passed out. Severus caught her and cradled her in his lap. Summer withdrew her wand and began casting spells over Hermione's prone form.

After what seemed an eternity to those surrounding the felled witch, Summer nodded in satisfaction and looked Severus in the eye. "I can undo the damage -" she began, only to be cut off by Ginny's piercing scream. Everyone turned and barely caught a glimpse of Ginny and the Snapes' baby daughter being Apparated away by a hooded figure.

Severus was clearly torn by dual needs: his overwhelming need to stay with his wounded wife; and his acute need to protect his newborn child.

Summer stepped in and took control. "Severus," she said in a tone more serious than any he had ever heard from her, "go after your daughter. I'll care for your wife. Go, quickly now, before you lose the Apparition wake."

As Severus quickly kissed his wife, Summer turned to Remus. He was holding Ron's wand to keep him from Apparating in haste and making the situation worse. She got their attention and asked, "You know how Aurors follow an Apparition wake, don't you?"

"Yes, of course," Remus said.

Ron nodded.

Summer spoke to Remus. "Wait until Severus's Apparition wake begins to fade, and then follow him." She walked right up to Ron and got in his face. "YOU," she barked in her harsh American tones, "run and Floo to Snape-on-Westray, get Harry Potter here. Then get yourself back here in time to follow Remus's Apparition wake and make your own. Then Harry can follow you. Now!" Summer poked Ron in the chest, and ordered, "RUN!"

Surprisingly, Ron followed Summer's instructions without delay.

When Ron returned to Summer a scant few minutes later, she was healing Hermione. He spoke to her without breaking his pace. "Harry's coming!" Ron panted. "Tonks is following him," he added, just before the crack was heard that signalled his following in the fading wake of Remus's Apparition."

* * *

Hermione clung to Severus, her arms around his neck, her cheek pressed so tightly to his that the bone ached. She pressed her body into his as she attempted to literally absorb him, and be absorbed by him. 

She had never been one to play damsel in distress; she preferred to be in the thick of the fight, fighting for herself and for those she loved. This time, she had been taken out before the fight began, only to awaken and find herself alone with Summer and Albus in Snape-on-Westray, during which time she discovered that Severus was out risking his life to save their daughter; and save her he did. Ginny had brought her back, safe and sound. After much cuddling, the infant went to sleep and was placed snugly in her cot. As soon as Hermione placed her daughter down, she began pacing their bedroom, frantically. She was distraught because Severus had still not returned. No amount of reassurances from Ginny would ease her mind, until she saw that Severus was safe with her own eyes.

Now, he was finally home and in her arms. He had allowed no harm to come to Senua and he was fine. Hermione's fears were all for naught. However, she needed to feel Severus. She needed to assure herself that he was with her, that he was safe and whole. She nestled her face in his neck and tightened her hold on him. As Senua began to waken, it was Hermione's turn to feel torn: torn between her need to be as close to Severus as possible, and her need to comfort their child.

At the mewling sounds of Senua, Severus unwound Hermione's arms from his neck. At the bereaved look on her face, he whispered, "Shush." Severus stroked Hermione's face gently, his deep black eyes fixed on hers with a breathtaking intensity. In this unspoken way, he communicated his love and care as clearly as if he had said the words. He finally voiced one word softly: "Come." Taking Hermione's hand, Severus closed the short distance to Senua's cot. He picked up their daughter and led Hermione to their bed. He placed the baby in Hermione's arms as he situated himself and pulled her to him.

Hermione sank gratefully into her husband's comforting embrace and simply asked, "What happened?"

"The raucous group - currently being fed by the elves - and I got Senua back." His face was expressionless, but his voice held a challenging smile.

Her need to know was so great that she didn't even realise that she was being baited. "But how, Severus? Who took our baby? Why did they take her, what did they want with her? What happened? Is there any danger -? "

Severus cut across her, "No, do not worry. That wretch can no longer get to us."

"How IS that? How do you know for sure? You didn't have to... to..."

"No, I didn't have to kill anyone. The culprit is in the custody of some very irate Aurors. Take a breath, My Love, and I shall endeavour to answer all of your questions."

Hermione breathed deeply and pressed herself deeper into Severus's embrace.

"It was Rita Skeeter. She hired the wizard who abducted Senua and Ginevra. Senua was the main target. Weasley," he continued, with no small amount of disdain making its way into his tone, "was told of his sister's marriage as a diversion. You were hurt in hopes of taking both you and Senua. As you know, Ginevra relieved you of Senua and she was taken instead. I followed their Apparition trail, as I am sure you have been told. I arrived in an abandoned building. Skeeter and four hired wizards were there. She was holding Senua and laughing maniacally. The wizards seemed to be regretting their part in Senua's abduction; it was as if they were beginning to realise how deranged Skeeter is. I drew her attention. She gave Senua to what seemed to be the most intelligent of her... employees." Severus's voice filled with rage. "She told me that he would ... " Severus trailed off.

Hermione turned in Severus's lap and stroked his stubbled cheek. "It must have been awful."

Severus's eyes were distant as he remembered.

* * *

In the dim light barely filtering through small, high windows that were covered in layers of dirt, Severus saw Rita Skeeter roughly hand his baby to a stocky wizard. "One move and he'll kill your precious daughter, Snape. And don't think for a second that it will be a quick or easy death." Rita Skeeter's voice was shrill and frenzied. She was obviously unhinged. 

"Be warned," Severus hissed; a lone Severus Snape was still a force to fear. As he rounded on Rita and her accomplices, he forewarned menacingly. "I shall not hesitate to use Unforgivables on you all." His glittering eyes scanned his dilapidated surroundings, noting the large doors behind the others.

"Give me your wand, Snape," Rita said almost conversationally, her voice echoing in the building's emptiness. As she stepped towards Severus, Ginny was revealed. She was lying on the floor, the victim of a Body-Bind.

"Perhaps you are willing to risk death under my Cruciatus, but are your friends?" He turned to the wizards and addressed the one holding his daughter. He saw their expressions and asked, "Have you not seen the Cruciatus Curse held longer on a victim than to cause mere madness?" He paused, his face looked calculatingly thoughtful. "I daresay you have not," he continued in a low deadly tone, "as it is not a common ability. It does take a peculiar skill, but I am quite adept, I assure you. I have killed in this way on several occasions. It's quite remarkable to watch; the prolonged torture drives the victim to insanity. Then the caster merely continues to hold the curse until the victim, in his mad desperation, finds a way to end his own life. That desperate death does not occur right away, mind you. No, no, it most certainly does not. It takes a vast amount of torture..." He gave his audience a pregnant pause and then continued, his deep voice dropped to a mesmerisingly venomous whisper, "... But, for those who possess the magical strength and ability..." he smiled a smile that implied he immensely enjoyed causing such a horrific death "...it is remarkable to inflict. I have caused people to tear through the flesh of their own thighs in order to lay open an artery and to bleed out, frantic to do anything to end the unbearable agony." He fingered his wand casually, his dark eyes narrow and gleaming in the dull light. "Imagine, if you will, pain so severe that you rip through your own arm with your teeth in an attempt to end it. Of course, that wouldn't end it, would it?" he asked with a twisted smile. "So you finally bludgeon your own head against the ground in order to find release." Severus paused and allowed them to absorb the information he was imparting. After a moment, he continued in a tone that could only be described as casually evil. "Then again, others with more strength have managed quite ... creative ... ways to die." He paused, yet again, to allow the horror to sink in. "Have you ever felt the Cruciatus cast by a Death Eater?" Severus asked, his voice cold and terrifying. "It is most ... potent ... I assure you. I wonder how much more ... intense ... the Cruciatus cast by a Death Eater whose daughter was harmed would be? Shall we find out?"

Rita Skeeter found her voice. "Don't listen to him!" she screeched. Then turning to Severus, she commanded, "Give me your wand, now, Snape!"

The burley man holding Senua looked at Skeeter. "What does he mean harmed? When I agreed the this, ya never said nothin' about hurtin' the kid. Now yer threatening 'er? She's just an innocent baby."

"You'll do as I say," Rita snapped.

The wizard turned to Severus. "I'm not hurtin' no baby. Here, take 'er back." As he went to hand Senua to Severus, Rita drew her wand and began to cast "Diffindo". However, in the same instant that Severus took his daughter, he wordlessly and wandlessly disarmed Skeeter. The Duelling Master followed that with a quick Stunner of his own, rendering Rita Skeeter unconscious as he held his daughter securely.

There followed the distinctive crack of Apparition and the appearance of Remus Lupin.

"Lupin," Snape drawled. "Ginevra is over there. I believe a simple 'Ennervate' will bring her around. Otherwise, she appears unharmed."

Remus ran to Ginny and roused her while Severus incapacitated the wizards and the unconscious Skeeter with a concentrated sneer and a click of his fingers.

With the danger passed, Severus settled his infant daughter against him in the gentlest manner as Remus pulled Ginny into his lap and fussed over her.

This was the scene Ron Weasley Apparated into. "Help's on the way," he panted as he bent over and clutched a stitch in his side. When he looked up, it was to see Severus soothingly swaying as he stroked his daughter's back and murmured softly to her.

His eyes turned towards his sister, who lay in Remus's lap. He saw that Remus was unaware of anything else as he gently caressed Ginny's hair. Remus was voicing tender concern over her health, despite her declarations of wellness.

As Ron's mouth dropped open in silent dumbfoundedness, Harry Potter appeared.

Directly after him, Nymphadora Tonks arrived on the scene. Putting her hands on her hips, the young, pink-haired Auror asked, "So, what have we here?"

* * *

Severus tried to appear unaffected, but the gruffness of his voice when he answered his wife belied his facade. "Senua is safe, that is all that matters." 

"Go on," Hermione said, bringing one of his hands up from her waist; she entwined her fingers with his and they held their daughter together.

"I disarmed and detained Skeeter. One of her minions seemed to regret his actions and voluntarily handed Senua to me. Then Lupin arrived and revived Ginevra. Before anything more could be discovered, we were joined by the amazing dunderheaded duo and Nymphadora."

"Don't use that name, it's rude," Hermione chastised.

"I should say that it is more an accurate assessment, rather than a rudeness," he said drolly.

"I meant 'Nymphadora'; she prefers Tonks, as you well know," Hermione huffed.

"Does she? Well, well, who would have thought?" Severus asked sarcastically.

"You know full well she does."

"Perhaps, although, I must say that I am glad you agree with me," he pronounced.

Knowing her husband, she smiled and concurred. "I do agree that Ron can be quite a dunderhead at times. However, Harry can be clever when he tries."

Severus grunted and asked in an affronted tone, "Shall I continue?"

"Please do," Hermione responded pleasantly.

"Hmm." Severus scowled, but it was a wasted on his wife. "Tonks," Severus said in with disdain, "took charge. She questioned Ginevra, and then released her to bring Senua home. The rest of us had to return with her to Auror Headquarters. Not much was revealed by way of motive; however, considering our history with Skeeter, it's not difficult to hazard a hypothesis."

"True, she does seem to hold a grudge" Hermione agreed. "Although, it was she who was in the wrong to begin with."

"Indeed," Severus allowed. "What we are certain of is that Skeeter drew Weasley to us to create a diversion; Skeeter hexed you; then, acting on her orders, the large wizard in her employ grabbed Ginevra and Senua and Apparated them away to a predetermined location. That is where they met three other wizards that were working for Skeeter. Finally, Skeeter joined them, and when I got there, she had Senua. She passed her to the large wizard and the rest I have told you. The wizards in her employ gave us the additional information. Uncharacteristically, Skeeter is not talking. Her accomplices did all say that she hired them with the express intent of kidnapping our daughter and you; however, it would seem she withheld from them her desire to cause physical harm."

"Will we never be safe and left alone?" Hermione asked.

"I cannot promise you that. The world is what it is." He sighed into her hair. "However, we should be safe and free of Rita Skeeter in the near future. She is being held, awaiting trial. Nymphadora said we could expect the trial to take place in a reasonable amount of time. With Albus on our side, I foresee a long imprisonment for Ms Skeeter."

"I'd rather she got help than be imprisoned," Hermione said softly.

"What?" Severus asked with a sneer.

"I mean, there must be something wrong with her. No sane witch would obsess and threaten us as she has. No woman in her right mind would kidnap another's daughter. I may have blackmailed her into line a few years back, but she was clearly unbalanced before that, or I wouldn't've had to use such drastic measures. No, I would prefer she got the help she needs so she will never pose a threat to anyone again. That would be better than simply giving her a punishment that will most likely only exacerbate her sickness. Because I think she must be sick to be the way she is."

"Altruistic, indeed. Have you no sense of vengeance? Do you not want -"

"I do, actually. I'd dearly love to wring the life out of her with my bare hands. However, my mother always said that two wrongs don't make a right. I may not always have lived by that, but, we have a daughter now, so it's time I tried. I'd be no better than Rita Skeeter if I wished her harm. And where my instinct is to inflict harm on the b- ...er... witch, I can't help but think: there are those who would have seen you put in Azkaban when you were a young Death Eater, when you were essentially a hurt and confused child. How would that have helped anything? It wouldn't've. It would have made things worse for all concerned. Albus saw that you're a good man, Severus, and he gave you a chance to make a new life. Who am I to judge Rita Skeeter? Although, I'll admit that I don't think she's a good woman. I think she's self-serving to the point of evil, but there must be a reason why she's that way. Maybe if she got help..." she trailed off. With a sigh, she said, "But then, maybe she can't be helped; still, everyone deserves a chance. Don't get me wrong, she's a danger to us, and who knows how many others. Because of that, I want to see her in prison. However, if we had a way to help her, instead, it would be better, I think."

"You, My Love, are a better person than I," Severus said seriously. "I would see her suffer for what she has done."

"I understand that, Severus, and that's my instinct too. Had I not learnt that Moody, and others, would've put you in Azkaban long before I met you, I might still agree with you."

"I know that," Severus began coldly, "however, I still wish to make her pay."

Hermione smiled. "Maybe it's your testosterone talking," she lightly teased.

"I am inclined to agree Madam Snape," Severus purred into her ear. "Shall we make better use of my hormonal surge?"

"Not with a house full of people waiting to see us, we won't," Hermione answered primly. After a minute's silence, she added in a wicked tone, "Let's see if we can encourage them to move on."

Severus smirked.

The Snapes made their way towards the group in the kitchen. They didn't notice that the door to the stairwell leading down to their potions lab was ajar. Nor did they sense the presence that smiled malevolently as they passed by that cracked door.

* * *

A sudden loud, unearthly noise broke the silence of the night and awakened the sated lovers. They looked questioningly at one another. After a moment, Severus called for Meppy. When the elf failed to appear, the two sat up in alarm. He called Reny. When Reny, too, failed to appear, the Snapes threw on dressing gowns as Severus called for Quimple and Darvis. Hermione picked up their daughter and cradled her protectively as they clutched their wands and took in the ramifications of an elf-less room. 

Severus silently indicated that Hermione should ward the door behind him as he left to search the house. He headed for the outer rooms, intending to search them and then seal off each in an inward pattern. He got no further than the second set of library doors when he turned to find Hermione coming through the first, heading towards him while clutching Senua to her chest. Before Severus could send her back to the safety of their bedroom, he caught a slight movement in the dark shadows across the large library. He had no time to react and found himself disarmed and immobilised with successive cries of "Expelliarmus! Incarcerous!"

Severus could just make out a deeply hooded figure as it moved in the shadows of their library, wand drawn. "Who are you?" Snape demanded in his most severe tone. When no answer was forthcoming, he continued. "Who dares invade my home?" His voice became lethal as he added in a whisper, "I'd have your name before I hex the very life from you."

The shadowed figure spoke, its voice male and rasping. "Big words for a bound and unarmed wizard, Snape." The unknown intruder laughed and said in an ominous voice, "My witch wants to hurt your wife. I want your evil, depraved, Death Eater head mounted on my wall..." He paused, and then added in an irrationally conversational tone, "It seems like I can get both in one, doesn't it?"

Hermione had heard enough. She hid Senua and made her presence known by advancing on the interloper and proclaiming, "You'll have to kill me before you take my husband's head."

The shadowed man turned towards her and rasped, "I'll not think twice about hurting a lady, if you make me."

"That doesn't surprise me," Hermione replied coolly. "You've already threatened an unarmed wizard. Why should you show scruples now?"

"Scruples? Scruples? You want to talk about scruples?" the intruder rasped madly. "Your husband is nothing more than murdering Death Eater scum! My parents were tortured and slaughtered by his kind. Maybe it was even him. Maybe it was your husband who raped my baby sister in front of our whole family. His build is about the same ... and the way he carries himself ... I saw it all, you know. Maybe your husband was just one of them on the side, applauding the brutalising of a little girl. Maybe he was one of those who got off on the sight of my little sister's torn body. Maybe he wasn't even there. It doesn't matter ... it doesn't matter at all! He still supported them. They're all the same. This is what you live with. You're no lady; you're a filthy Death Eater's bint. Now put down your wand! I won't ask you again, and I won't think twice about hexing you."

"Ah. Well, on that, sir, we differ," Hermione said in measured tones. "You see, I shan't take the time to think at all."

The intruder seemed to hesitate. Hermione didn't. She disarmed him and flew at him. With her wand pressed into his throat, she hissed, "Apologise to my husband!" At the same time, she wandlessly freed Severus.

The intruder struggled to speak around Hermione's wand. "I'll never apologise to the likes of him!"

Severus joined Hermione and placed the intruder under a Stupefying Charm. Severus spoke softly to his wife. "He seems only willing to voice vulgarities. Why don't you settle Senua, while I fetch some Veritaserum?"

When Hermione rejoined Severus, he was holding a phial of Veritaserum while casting 'Ennervate' on the intruder.

A few questions later saw Aurors taking John Kinnear, Rita Skeeter's long time Muggle-born 'companion', into custody.

Meanwhile, Severus and Hermione were waiting anxiously for news on their house-elves, who were being treated by a renowned Healer the couple had called in. The Healer told them that the elves injuries were extensive and, in Meppy's case, life threatening. Reny and Darvis were seriously wounded, but they were expected to make full recoveries. Quimple, the dear old elf, had gladly given his life for the Snapes. The Healer reminded the Snapes that house-elf magic is powerful - some say more powerful than the magic of wizards, in a way - but when surprised while sleeping, even that wasn't enough. Reny and Darvis were able to respond to some gentle questions, and they had made it known that Quimple had fought valiantly. It was his magic that had made the sound that awakened the Snapes. If it weren't for him, Severus and Hermione would have been caught as unaware and unprepared as the elves were. It was his warning magic that had enraged the intruder enough to end his life then and there. When Meppy became distraught over Quimple, she was treated to severe hexes and curses. Not that Reny and Darvis hadn't fought, they had. It was merely that Reny and Darvis were subdued first, giving Quimple time to warn the family. The Healer gave this information to the Snapes quickly; he was in a hurry to return to Meppy's care and the Snapes did not detain him.

* * *

Reny and Darvis were their old selves again, and Meppy was on her way to a full recovery, although, for the time being, she was on a strict regime of medicinal potions, and she still had to use some magical medical equipment to aid her mobility. 

Elves and humans alike at Snape-on-Westray mourned the loss of Quimple.

It was not long before Rita Skeeter and John Kinnear were tried and sentenced. They wouldn't be a threat for decades to come. Their accomplices were tried separately and penalised accordingly. The Snapes breathed easier in light of Rita Skeeter's conviction.

Remus and Ginny Lupin's marriage was met with much scepticism and a bit of outright disdain, but they were too happy with each other to care. However, the Weasley family came around quickly. Even Ron Weasley finally made a tentative but lasting peace with the Lupins.

Much to Hermione's happiness, Ron formed the same peace with the Snapes. His friendship with Harry and Hermione was joyfully renewed.

Hermione Snape increased her efforts on the behalf of house-elves, as well as championing the cause for wizarding prison reform.

Severus Snape did consult with Hogwarts, and its Potions classes were vastly improved for his interference. Although he steadfastly refused to return to teaching, he accepted the task of creating a new Potions text and curriculum for the school, shortly after completing his latest project with his wife. Together, Severus and Hermione had managed to create the wizarding equivalent of an inoculation that rendered the recipient immune to the influence of the Imperius Curse. It was an amazing breakthrough.

The couple was just beginning work on a joint project: one Severus had been considering since he was a student at Hogwarts; one that Severus and Hermione believed would shake the very foundations of the wizarding world one day. However, more importantly for him was his daughter's latest achievement. It had happened just last week.

Senua Snape obviously wanted to be picked up. She held her tiny arms up to her father, who was quite busy gazing longingly at her mother's posterior; thereby, he failed to notice his daughters unspoken request. His inattention prompted Senua's first word, "Da!" She repeated it until her father noticed her, and acquiesced to her demand to be picked up.

* * *

After Severus had placed Senua down for her nap, he turned to Hermione. She took a step towards him in anticipation; her arms coming around his neck to pull him to her. Her left hand sifted through the back of his hair, while her other slid to his hipbone and pulled his body tighter to hers. She looked into his eyes. The eyes of her lover; her husband; the father of her child; and she was speechless. There in the inky blackness of his eyes she saw his feelings: his desire, his love, and... his joy. She was entranced by the depths of passion this austere wizard was willing experience with her, and her alone. It stole away her ability to breathe.

She felt his hot breath on her skin before his deep silken whisper reached her ears. "Hermione," he breathed, "Gods, Hermione, she spoke to me. She said: Da."

"I know," Hermione smiled into the skin of her husband's neck and inhaled his essence appreciatively. "You are her father, and she adores you."

Severus leaned into Hermione and he caught her lips with his. He pulled back and kissed her softly once, a fleeting brush of his lips against hers. This time when he spoke it was onto her lips, "You gave yourself to me, you gave her to me, you made us a family."

Hermione laughed softly, and said, "I think you helped a little with the creation of our daughter."

Severus growled low in his throat and nipped his wife's neck, "You know what I mean."

"I do, Severus, I do," she said seriously, as he claimed her lips again. As his lips moved slowly and sensuously on her, she couldn't help the small whimper that escaped her throat.

At the sound of her rising passion, Severus deepened the kiss; pulling her roughly to him, entangling his hands in her hair, and meshing their mouths together savagely. They were devouring each others mouths, lost in a swirl of emotions and need; the need to show each other the depths of their love.

Hermione made a small mewling noise of despair when his mouth left hers, only to moan when he trailed hot kisses along her jaw to her earlobe. He teased and caressed the small piece of flesh with his tongue and teeth, making Hermione begin to move her body against his.

"Bed," was the last coherent word Hermione could utter. How they made the short walk, she didn't remember. The next thing she knew she was laying atop of her husband, kissing and nibbling at the skin above his high-buttoned collar.

Severus was drowning in the feeling of his aroused wife devouring him and moving her body restlessly against his. He couldn't see her; the fall of her hair surrounded them both encasing them in darkness. He could, however, feel her lips on his skin, and her hands on his buttons as she pried them open. He reached up and took her head in his hands, rubbing his cheek lovingly along hers before he pushed her up just enough so that he could look into her eyes. "Beautiful," he whispered, his deep voice somehow lower in his passion, "you are the most beautiful..." he was cut off by his own need to kiss her. He pulled her face back to him and resumed kissing her with unrestrained passion; his tongue stroking hers in a deep sensual rhythm. His kiss held such intensity that it rendered them both breathless before it was done.

Hermione's passion fogged brain barely registered that somehow her husband had reversed their positions; and he now lay atop of her.

Severus was lost in his wife's softness. The feel of her sweet curves beneath him set him aflame. He kissed his way down her throat and feasted on the soft round flesh exposed at the top of her robes. As he continued to torture her with his kisses, his hand snaked down her body to slowly raise her skirt. When he had it above her knee, his hand disappeared beneath it. His arousal soared as he smoothed his hand along the soft satiny flesh of her inner thigh.

Hermione felt her husband slide down her body to kiss along the path his hand had been caressing beneath her skirt, and she lost all ability to think.

* * *

Much later Severus and Hermione checked on their baby daughter. They watched as Senua kicked her feet and smiled in her sleep. Severus wrapped his arm around his wife and fought the urge to grin. It was a battle he had been fighting ever since Senua had uttered her first word.

There would be few times in the coming years when the staid Severus Snape would lose that particular battle.

Fin.

* * *

_ I want to thank Nakhash Mekashefah for beta reading this fic. Her talent and skill is astonishing!_

* * *


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